Light
by BiJane
Summary: The world ends. It all began in Hogwarts, Harry's second year...  The Doctor returns! This time with Amy and Rory. Sequel of sorts to Changes, though Changes isn't required reading.
1. Future

**Hi readers!  
So, this is a sequel of sorts to Changes: though Changes isn't required reading as there won't be anything major. If you want to read it though, I won't stop you!  
All you need to know (Not major story-spoilers for Changes): Hogwarts exists in the real world, and the Doctor saved it before in the first year. Only Dumbledore remembers, because he went into the TARDIS at the Doctor's request, to go meet Amy and Rory (who didn't go to Hogwarts the first time), and the temporal effects of the TARDIS (think wibbly-wobbly-time-wimey) allowed the headmaster to remember. More or less.  
Whew... hopefully that made sense to the people who just want to read this.  
Oh, and Dumbledore's read the books. **

**In any case, now that's out the way... This is another Doctor Who/Harry Potter crossover. Something strange is once again happening at Hogwarts...fairly mysterious.  
If you squint, you can probably see Harry/Draco for the pairings: nothing too explicit though as they're just in their second year.  
If you keep squinting, you can probably find Doctor/Dumbledore. It's not meant to be much more than a close friendship, but their relationship fascinated me while I wrote this.  
This is also meant to be running, roughly, along canon. Roughly. Though there may be deviations.**

**Wow...this is one long Author's Note...  
In any case, one more thing to say: please review if you're enjoying! I don't think this is my best beginning, but oh well. Also, I'm considering a Doctor Who adventure like this for each year at Hogwarts. Let me know what you think.  
This is for the 11th Doctor.**

**Enjoy! **

The TARDIS made a familiar groaning, wheezing, as it landed.

"Earth!" the Doctor shouted, "2011! Sunny holiday for you!"

"_Please _say this isn't a honeymoon," Rory replied, "You know how they turn out."

"Nah, this is fun! Exciting!"

The Doctor grinned, barrelling up to the TARDIS doors and swinging them open.

It wasn't quite as sunny as he'd hoped. There was no snow, no rain. Just, no anything. The only light came from the distant stars, the moon was unseen; the warmth of the TARDIS was the only thing keeping him alive.

Swaying in the doorway, the Time Lord stared out. Earth was lifeless. A sheen of ice covered the ground, moisture in the air having turned to solid, and the sky was bare: no clouds, no moon, no Sun. Just stars, distant, watchful.

"And, maybe not," the Doctor finished, swinging the doors shut and darting up to the TARDIS console. "Tracing event to its source…"

"Doctor," Rory spoke up, "I don't understand."

"Oh, shut up Rory, all the things you don't understand could take a while to-"

"Oy!" Amy interrupted, "That's my husband you're talking to!"

"Oh, alright," the Doctor shrugged, fiddling with the console. "Some points in time are fixed. Evidently, this isn't one of them: someone's changed time, coming from…"

He struck a button with a flourish. A few seconds later, he slumped.

"Why, what is it?" Amy frowned, running up and peering at the console screen.

"Hogwarts," she said, loudly, happy. "_Now_ we get to go to Hogwarts!"

O

The barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters hadn't let them through. It was a pain, a real pain, though in retrospect, maybe this wasn't the best idea.

Harry took another look, sideways out of the window.

Yeah, this definitely wasn't the best idea. Instead of taking the train, Harry had accepted Ron's offer; now he was in the pale blue car, flying dangerously high over the spectacular fields, soaring to Hogwarts.

"Can't be much further, can it?" Ron muttered to himself, tentatively patting the wheel.

Harry nodded absently, staring out the window. He was sure he could see…

An unhealthy whine came from the car's engine. The black haired boy looked nervously at the driving Ron. "It's probably just tired," the boy with messy red hair replied, unconvinced.

Harry looked back out the window; sure, they were above clouds, but he could make out something below the white wisps. Dark green backdrop-a forest?-but in the middle, there was something odd. Grey, a little taller… He strained his eyes, glasses almost falling off his ears.

"Not far," Ron murmured, tentatively dipping below the clouds again.

"There!" Harry suddenly shouted, distracted, as he recognized the dramatic landmark of Hogwarts castle. By his ear, the snowy Hedwig cawed.

Ron muttered to himself, egging the car on, as Harry tried to distract himself. He looked back out the window, to see if he could glimpse the irregularity again, but found that the car had flown on too far, and the grey spot in the forest, the Forbidden Forest come to think of it, was long since out of sight.

The blue car flew onwards.

O

"Whoever said you stood out?" the Doctor crooned softly, stroking the TARDIS door.

The blue box stood slap-bang in the middle of the hallway. The hallway leading down to the dungeons, no less; a very commonly used one.

"I did," Amy rolled her eyes, interrupting, "Doctor, can we _please_ move it somewhere else?"

"No," the Doctor crossed his arms, "I like it here."

Amy raised her eyebrows, staring at him.

"Did you break anything?" the redhead said

"No!" the Doctor shook his head violently, appalled she could even suggest such a thing. A second later: "Alright, maybe a _little_. Forgot normal tech doesn't work here. She's fine, but needs a little while to adapt."

"We don't _have _a little while," Amy spoke, frustrated as she normally ended up being with the Doctor.

"We do have a little while!" the Doctor protested, "Just a littler while than the little while we need."

"Well, what are we going to do for that littler while?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Improvise!"

Rory groaned. Mr Pond was about to say something, when voice cut through into their conversation; not the huge crowd of students, just muffled groans of complaints of two, and a nasal third voice. Too muffled to hear properly.

Quickly, the Doctor had run up the corridor. Tired, Rory and Amy followed.

As they moved to the outer stairwell, they saw two boys, Harry and Ron, being dragged by the collar, by the tall, pale, sallow Professor Snape.

"And who are you?" Snape sneered, looking the trio of time travellers up and down.

Amy looked at the two students, appraisingly. ""HE does look a lot like Daniel Radcliffe, huh?" she murmured over to Rory

"I don't understand this," her husband replied, frowning

"Me neither," she shrugged. She paused for a few seconds. "Think he looks anything like Daniel did in _Equus_?"

"We're just passing through," the Doctor hastily spoke to Snape, "Going to see Dumbledore. Oh," he turned back to Amy, "Yes, he does. Or will, I never got the hang of tenses. Never needed them."

"How would you know?" Amy blinked, facing the Time Lord

"I had a friend called Jack," the Doctor shrugged, "Don't ask." He span around back to Snape. "So, what can we do for you?"

"You could get out the way," Snape's dark eyes were locked on the Doctor's.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, shrugging. Above them, the Time Lord and teacher stared at each other. Rory and Amy looked bemused.

"Severus!" a wise, old voice called. A man and a woman hurried down the stairs; in jade robes, Minerva McGonagall was the first to reach the floor, and stop next to Severus. Following her was Albus Dumbledore; the one who had spoken.

Upon seeing the Doctor, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, for a brief second, appeared almost afraid. He knew what the Doctor's appearance heralded.

"I believe the students are in your House, Minerva," the bearded wizard nodded to the witch at his side, "Do what you see fit."

Harry and Ron exchanged frightened glances.

"And Doctor," Dumbledore looked at the Time Lord, "Amy and Rory. I believe we must talk."

As Minerva and Severus spoke to one another, above the nervous pair of students, the Headmaster of Hogwarts lead the trio of travellers away. They went down the corridor, until they stood next to the comforting blue figure of the TARDIS.

"Why have you returned?" Dumbledore looked at each of them

"Ah, yes, Albus, that could take a while to explain," the Doctor dithered on the spot, "Well, we landed a little way in the future, then hopped back `cos things were going really, _really_ badly, traced things to Hogwarts and Bam!" he slapped his hands together, "We're here, right?"

"I don't think anyone understands what he's babbling on about," Amy stage-whispered to Dumbledore. The teacher smiled.

"I know the feeling," Dumbledore spoke. "I trust you're not here for employment once again, for I feel I must inform you the job has been taken by a Gilderoy Lockhart."

Amy groaned: "Never liked him."

"Don't say that!" Rory quickly interjected, "Spoilers, as he always says."

"Do not worry Mr Williams," Dumbledore said kindly

"Pond," the Doctor interrupted, "He's Mr Pond."

Rory shrugged at the headmaster.

"Do not worry, Mr Pond," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, "I have read the books, I know what to expect."

Rory scratched his head, deciding not to even try and understand.

"Ah, right," the Doctor nodded, "Reminds me, why did you come down here? In the book, Snape went away to call you, you didn't come down by yourself."

"I was investigating the centaurs."

"Centaurs?" Amy raised her eyebrows, "The hot horse-guys?"

"Those who reside in the Forest, yes. People have said one has been wandering the streets of Hogwarts during the feast."

"Alright then," the Doctor clapped his hands, "That's why we're here then!"

"Really?" Dumbledore sighed wearily

"No, well, yes, well, might be. Never know, could be connected! Now, the question is, what'll we call ourselves…" the Doctor trailed off, seemingly thinking about that more than he was about the fact the Earth was frozen in a few years time.

"I want to be Scully!" Amy chirped

"Right then," the Doctor puffed himself up, "I'm Mulder."

"Mm, _Foxy_," Amy and the Doctor laughed at her pun, before Rory butted in;

"You do realize no one here knows who we are, right?"

"Oh, alright," the Doctor slumped, "Party-pooper. Be boring like that then."

The TARDIS sparked into life beside them, a little light emanating from the upper bulb, and the windows illuminating again. She'd recovered from the sudden shock of landing.

"Back in a sec!" the Doctor announced, ducking into the TARDIS.

About five seconds later, he was running back down the staircase, past Snape, Minerva, Harry and Ron, to his companions and Dumbledore. "Just parked her in your office, hope you don't mind," he grinned, "Probably couldn't do much about it if you did actually, sorry.

O

"Doctor," Rory called.

They'd been here a day so far. They spent the night in the TARDIS, using the maze of rooms inside it for housing. Rory had suppressed his questions for that day, but after the night, they were overflowing.

"Yes Rory?" the Doctor stepped out of his wardrobe.

The Time Lord turned around, blinking. "So _that's_ where that door goes." Grinning at his latest discovery, he turned back to Rory: "Where's Amy?"

"Gone out to Hogwarts," he shrugged, "We're 'investigators' now, Dumbledore said."

"Really?" the Doctor plonked himself down on a chair opposite Rory, "I miss the days where I was just a meddler."

"Doctor?"

"Yes Rory," the Time Lord repeated himself with a groan

"How does all this work? I mean, Harry Potter's just a book, right?"

"Nah, that'd be no fun," the Doctor shook his head, "There are loads of stories taking place on Earth right now, all in parallel. Not like parallel universes, but more…playgrounds. I like playgrounds. Just a skip away from each other, but the people actually _in _the playgrounds never bother to cross over: they can't. Wizards have a spell for it actually; that one they've got to repel Muggles, it works the same way, stopping any of the none-wizards hopping through. Of course, doesn't work for us. Time travellers; we can hop through the playgrounds. Of course, aliens can too, they don't come from Earth to the earthly playgrounds are the same to them. Get it?"

"Um…I think," Rory frowned

"Good, you can explain it to em," the Doctor was about to continue, when they heard the phone ring.

The Doctor got up hastily, running out of one of the two doors (excluding the wardrobe) which lead to the Ponds' room. There was a splash. A few seconds later, a soaking Doctor re-entered the room.

"_That's_ where the swimming pool ended up," he grinned, before leaving, at a run, through the other door.

About thirty seconds later, he barged out of the wardrobe again, past a surprised Rory. The Time Lord stopped, looking around, eventually realizing he'd been there before.

"You moved," he moved very close to Rory, pointing a finger accusingly

"Uh…no," Rory murmured, bemused. "Don't you know your way around your own time machine?"

"No fun that way," the Doctor shrugged, "Besides, things are always shuffling around. Dimensions are a little off balance, bigger on the inside, and I can never remember where the button to turn off the shuffle is."

"There's a shuffle?" Rory blinked

"Yeah. Well, technically it's hide-and-seek mode. But 'shuffle' sounds better."

The Doctor paused, looking around before, with a triumphant expression, opening a drawer from the bronze wall and, somehow, hopping all the way inside it.

Rory walked over to the drawer, eventually realizing the noise of the ringing phone was emanating from it. He peered down into it; the TARDIS control room was within.

Mr Pond rolled his eyes; he'd put the Harry Potter books in there, for suitable reading. Now he'd never get them back: who knew which bit of the TARDIS they'd ended up?

Curious, Rory listened to the Doctor as he babbled into the phone:

"Yes, Marilyn, I said I'd be back in a- oh, hi Amy. What? …Right, be there soon." He slammed the phone down. "C'mon Rory!" he called.

After several minutes of wandering through several rooms, including a library, an ecosystem full of butterflies, an empty plaza, and tennis courts which looked like they were made out of cheese, Rory found his way to the console room. By the time he got there, the Doctor was already in his coat, and was tapping his foot on the grating.

They left the TARDIS, into Dumbledore's office, almost immediately.

O

"I think _that_ counts as something suspicious," Amy muttered, pointing to the floor.

They were on the second floor. The ground was made out of the normal grey, impassive stone; covered in a thin spread of water. Most likely because of their proximity to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

None of that was important though; it was all common place. One other thing though had caught Amy's attention.

Damp, right in the middle of the floor, there was a small, black book. Its pages were yellowed with age. Evidently, it had rested there a while, as water was seeping through its pages.

The Doctor knew, if he knelt down and picked it up, it would be easy to find a few words written neatly on it: Tom Riddle's Diary.

Straight through the centre, there were two, great gaping holes, gaps in the pages and cover. Black stained the pages, and ink trickled out over the ravaged edges of the gaps, looking eerily like blood.

The Doctor walked up to the Diary, and simply flipped it over. "Dead," he intoned dully; "Bitten, judging by the tooth-marks."

"Is that really all that bad?" Rory frowned, feeling he was missing something.

"You need to read the books more Pond," the Doctor looked up with a flippancy he didn't feel in his voice, "Mr Pond, not you Amy," he amended, "This isn't just a diary," he dropped the book, "It can't be destroyed that easily. Basilisk venom would do it though; and guess what it looks like bit it."

"But…the Basilisk was under its control, right?" Amy frowned

The Doctor looked at the lifeless Diary, and then at the redhead. "I thought so too."


	2. Mysteries

**I finished this chapter quite a while ago, but my internet was broken for the majority of today, so I'm only just getting around to uploading it.  
Hope you enjoy the next part! Still introducing a fair few bits.**

**Also: if you enjoy this, check out Striders-Girl89's story 'The Tales of Bella Lumic'. It helped inspire some of this story, and it's great!  
And back to the story: **

"Thanks for all you're doing," the Doctor said, legs swinging over the edge of a table.

"It is no trouble, Doctor," Dumbledore replied.

They were in his office; the Headmaster by his desk, the Doctor closer to the entrance. The TARDIS stood to the side, out the way.

"I mean, I know I'm a pain and all, lots of people say so. Actually, I say so sometimes, especially when I talk to myself. Which is quite a bad habit, I keep telling myself not to do it, but I never listen," the Doctor shook his head and sighed, "Anyway, thanks. I mean it."

"What could I do if I did not accept your aid?" Dumbledore looked at the Time Lord, smiling, "You speak of things that I would not have the faintest clue how to deal with."  
"Oh, neither do I most of the time." The Doctor grinned.

He paused, looking around the room.

It fascinated him how many little gimmicks there were. The Doctor had accumulated and invented a great deal of similar gizmos himself, but he was several centuries old: Dumbledore had gathered all this in a human lifetime.

There were things resembling microscopes, gems, cutlery and, the Doctor noted with glee; the deluminator. Giddily grinning, he picked it up in one hand, and flicked it. The light in the room, just next to him, was promptly extinguished.

"Always wanted to do that," he muttered, before flicking the light back on and putting the device down, "So," he looked back at Dumbledore, "Any odd news from the Wizarding World?"

"A rather eccentric man visited Hogwarts School," Dumbledore replied, amused

"Really?" the Doctor brightened, before slumping: "Wait, that was about me."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"There is more," Dumbledore continued, "They say something happened at Ollivander's wand shop, and you already know of the centaur."

"Right," the Doctor clapped his hands together, "We'll start there."

O

Harry wandered down the corridor, pacing, bored. He'd just survived his first lesson with the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher: Gilderoy Lockhart, arguably worse than Quirrell, and Quirrell had Voldemort in the back of his head!

Now he was on his way to a detention he'd been given after his unorthodox entry to Hogwarts, via flying car. Apparently Lockhart insisted but some new person, the 'Doctor', had been given the opportunity instead. A fair few students said they'd talk to him after; they hadn't really been told much about why the Doctor was there.

"Boy!" a deep, rumbling voice caught his attention. Harry turned, to see a strange creature.

It was a centaur, unmistakably. Its lower body was formed of shaggy, matted brown horse hair, over a strangely thin frame. Its back hooves appeared to drag a little. Its front however wasn't so much menacing, as wild; strong, visible muscles going down dark flesh, thick fingers, each stained by dirt. Its face glared down, harsh eyes peering through coarse, unkempt strands of hair.

"Yes, um-" Harry paused; he'd had an experience with centaurs last year. He knew not to act too superior, but also knew not to be too cowardly. He was a little shocked at seeing the being simply standing in the corridor.

"I am Lellorian. We will speak again."

The so-named Lellorian observed the student for a few more seconds, before quickly turning and galloping off. His hooves clopped on the stone floor.

Confused, Harry took another step down the corridor, away from the centaur, before encountering the Doctor.

"Hello!" the man knelt down until his face was level with Harry's, "You're Harry aren't you? I'm the Doctor!" he stood up, about to lead Harry into his room before, almost incidentally, turning around and saying; "Oh, and I probably shouldn't say this, but you might want to start talking to Ron's sister. You know, Ginny. Or Draco actually, he was a popular choice."

With that remark, accompanied by a frown, the Doctor walked into the spare classroom.

Harry followed, looking around, surprised at the state of the room. Apparently the Doctor had converted it into his own office; there were two, comfy, cushioned chairs facing each other in the centre, with all the tables pressed against the walls of the room, except for on which was to the side of the two chairs; not between them. All the side tables were littered with gadgetry and confusing,, chaotic creations; coat hangers, chairs, sticks, and often general indistinct items, all blended into one bizarre mess.

"Come on Harry!" the doctor sat down on the far seat. Tentatively, Harry followed and sat on the other. "So," the Doctor continued, pausing, before leaning forwards, serious, "Have you seen a fez anywhere around here?"

"No," Harry blinked.

"Oh," the Doctor looked disappointed. "Too bad. Um, so, anything weird at all?"

Harry paused; thinking of the strange thing he'd seen when flying in the car the grey in the Forbidden Forest. Then he thought of Lellorian; the centaur.

"No," he said.

The Doctor slumped back, disappointed. A few seconds ticked by, before Harry couldn't resist asking:

"Um, sorry sir, I don't want to be rude, but what do you actually _do_?"

"Well," the Doctor paused, "Travel in a box, run a lot, get into trouble, and wear bow ties," he looked at Harry's expression, "What? Bow ties are cool. Oh!" the Doctor slapped himself, "You mean, what am I doing _here_? Well, investigating really. Quite a bit actually, but you won't want to know all the details. Besides, I'm giving you detention; be glad of that! It's me," the Doctor leant forwards, solemn, "Or Lockhart. You've got to admit, I'm better than him."

At that, Harry couldn't help but to agree.

O

Rory nervously walked out into the corridor; the Doctor had told him what he had to do, and how important it was.

His job, for now, was to keep time preserved. As the year ticked by, the changes caused by the premature death of the diary would grow and swell; Rory had to keep things roughly in one piece.

He had with him, a pot of red paint, and a brush. Harry would be coming this way after he'd finished at Nearly Headless Nick's Death-Day party; which, book wise, was the right time. The rest of the school should be at the Feast.

Rory double checked the edition of the book he'd taken to carrying with him, though hadn't yet read. The words were there.

Breathing heavily, he began to paint on the wall: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

The words the Diary had caused to be painted, now painted by his hand; preserving the timeline, and the reactions of the staff. Well, as best they could. They couldn't exactly go around stunning the Basilisk victims.

As Rory backed away from his completed work, he reflected soon; they didn't need to. In the corridor to his side, which he hadn't noticed before, a girl was laying, sprawled on the floor. At first he felt afraid; that she'd seen what he'd done. But then, as he approached, he noticed that she'd been petrified.

Rory backed away; now at a run. He had to put the paint away, wash the splatters off his guilty hands, before he could do anything.

O

"Hestia!" McGonagall let out a hoarse whisper upon seeing the student; she was Slytherin, and yet now lay on the cold stone floor, petrified by means only available to the Basilisk. The Basilisk who belonged to the Founder of Slytherin and as such, shouldn't harm Slytherin students at all.

Rory now stood with a small crowd on teachers, hands still a little damp from when he'd hastily washed them. He looked around, sparing a sympathetic glance for Harry, Ron and Hermione who were caught in the middle of it.

What he was really looking for, however, was something reflective, something to have weakened the glare of the Basilisk. It didn't take him long; the floor was covered in water.

"No…" a weak whisper came from one of the huddles of students, all massing around the point. Rory looked over; it was another Slytherin girl. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the one McGonagall had identified as Hestia.

"That's Flora," the Doctor's voice carried over, whispering into Rory's ear. The man didn't turn round, though he still paid attention; "Hestia's twin. They were only ever in the film version. I looked her up before I got here."

Rory nodded, glad to hear the new information, but a little scared by it. His heart ached in sympathy for Flora: it hurt to lose someone close. He knew.

O

Amy sighed wistfully, looking over the messy room. She'd been sent here by the doctor, to investigate apparently. He'd even lent her a magnifying glass.

Shrugging, the redhead paced into the shop; it was Ollivander's, reportedly ransacked quite recently.

"Heya- ah, Ollie!" she called into the shop.

A man, so pale he was almost a ghost, seemed to almost glide out of the back of the shop; "Yes? Are you here for a wand?"

"Ah, no," Amy shook her head after a second's temptation, "I'm here about the theft. Someone broke into your shop, right?"

"Ah, yes," Ollivander nodded. "A strange case. A crate of wands was stolen from me, but they were nothing special. All rowan, thirteen ten inches, fourteen eleven inches, eight ten and-"

"Alright," Amy interrupted quickly, before he could go through the entire inventory. "So, lots of wands were stolen. Can you think why?"

"I am afraid not," Ollivander seemed genuinely puzzled, "They would be of no use to a stranger. The wand chooses the wizard, after all."

O

The Doctor paced down the hall; his detention with Harry had just finished. Quite fun actually; ok, the timelines strictly shouldn't allow it, but for one, he needed to talk to as many people as possible, the eyes and ears of Hogwarts to be looking out for the cause of the end of Earth, and secondly, Lockhart was just a pain.

The Time Lord paused after a few steps, peering down at the floor. He knelt down, rubbing two fingers along the stone.

It was barely there, a trace admittedly, but distinctly visible. Marks; breathing audibly, the Doctor ran his hand over the mud, specks of dirt. Hooves.

Didn't Dumbledore mention a centaur seen in Hogwarts? The Doctor wasn't an expert, but from what he'd come to believe of the creatures from the books. They were a proud race; and most disliked humans. Why would any bother to come into the school?

Still, a centaur had been here. Or an actual horse, come to think of it. But wasn't a centaur more likely? Then again, he'd seen a horse on a spaceship once. As well as France. Still, he knew there was a centaur wandering around; until he'd met a horse, and named it Arthur, he'd stick with being suspicious of the centaur.

He was about to continue on, to Dumbledore's office for a chat with the headmaster, when his eye caught something else. A stream of spiders were steadily scuttling down the side of the corridor. A chaotic march, afraid.

"Spiders flee from it," the Doctor murmured to himself, quoting the book.

It looked like the Basilisk was still on the loose, slithering around Hogwarts despite the death of the Diary.

And that gave him another thing to add to his list.

The Doctor turned around, away from the footprints and Dumbledore's Office, and started towards Myrtle's bathroom. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

O

Two eyes, beneath pale blonde hair, watched from an empty room. As Harry walked away from his detention, the boy, the watcher, walked out to him.

"Heya Potter!" the student said with a half-sneer

"What'd you want Malfoy?" Harry didn't turn to face the newcomer; Draco

"Who says I want anything from you? But I saw you talking to Lellorian."

"So?" Harry shot back defensively

"Oh, come on Potter, even you should no centaurs don't just wander around schools."

"Right," Harry rolled his eyes, making sure Draco knew he was being sarcastic, "How do you even know his name?"

"`Cos he gave up on me. Why'd you think he's talking to you? Not like you're anyone's first choice."

Harry didn't reply, just walking straight down the corridor

"Just look Potter, you know I don't like you," Draco continued, "Just, don't trust Lellorian. He's going to get you to steal something for him. Don't."

With that, the Slytherin student turned and walked the opposite way to Harry, straight away from him.

The black haired Gryffindor frowned, looking at the unlikely-helper. Don't trust Lellorian? Harry hadn't in the first place, but now he was even more inclined not to; especially if even Draco had refused.

Was it really trying to steal something, as Draco said? If so, what?

O

The Doctor stood on the wet floor, in the girls' bathroom. In front of him, the sinks stood; the entrance to the Chamber. Something must've been here.

A girlish wail sounded, and something shot up out of one of the cubicles. Moaning Myrtle shot into the Time Lord's sight. She drifted sideways, frowning, and leaning closer, leering at the alien.

"This is the girl's bathroom," she said, "Boys aren't allowed."

"Ok, I'll bear that in mind," the Doctor darted around the side of the ghost, shivering as she passed straight through him

"_You're _a boy," Myrtle said with a slight lisp

"Not my fault," the Doctor knelt down, looking around the circle of sinks as the ghost followed him.

"Still means you can't come in."

"Right," the Doctor replied, distracted as he ran his sonic screwdriver over the sink, illuminating the room in a small green glow, "So, anyway. Even though I'm not technically allowed in, I still am, so I must have some kind of permission, right?" the Doctor paused, putting his screwdriver away and flashing his psychic paper to Myrtle: "This!"

"Ooh, you're _investigating_," Myrtle adorned the word with a sceptical giggle;" Why'd that lead you to the girls' bathroom?"

"Look, Myrtle," the Doctor stood up, facing the ghost in her eyes. He rested his hands on the air, just over her shoulders; "Believe me; you died here, yellow eyes coming from the sinks. That's the reason I'm here."

With that, the Doctor span around and buzzed the sonic screwdriver at the sinks. A small machine he'd noticed, hooked over the back of the tap with a snake on, was activated; it lit up for a brief second and then, as surely as if he'd commanded in it parseltongue, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets opened.  
"Oh," Myrtle kicked back a few steps, as if swimming, "You're here for that? Go find a centaur, he kept barging in here too. Nearly as rude as you."

The Doctor frowned, turning. Centaur? Like Dumbledore had mentioned.

He turned and sealed the Chamber with a buzz from his sonic; first thing's first. That centaur was getting everywhere. He needed to find it.


	3. Sighting

**random fact: this story is planned to run, roughly, along canon, so pairings are now cemented as just the canon ones. Though I like the Harry/Draco relationship, so that will be a 'friendship'.  
In any case, enjoy! Hopefully, updates on this will soon be coming quicker, as I'm near the end of my other fanfic.  
Sorry if the writing style and characterizations are a little off in this one. Not getting anywhere near enough sleep at the moment, but oh well. Enjoy!**

Amy Pond paced up and down Diagon Alley; she'd spoken to Ollivander, and found out about the seemingly pointless theft. Now, she was supposed to be heading back to Hogwarts, if Rory and his carriage ever arrived.

"Hey Amy!" his familiar voice called out.

He was coming down the cobbled stone streets in a large carriage, drawn by two, scaly, winged horse-like beings. Thestrals, if Amy remembered the books.

Her husband hopped off the carriage, before helping his wife up to the other side. "Back in a sec," he said quickly, "Doctor sent me to pick something up."

The redhead sighed, leaning back.

A minute or so passed, before Rory hastily ran back. He had a small bag from one of the shops in his hand.

Quickly, Rory got back up onto the carriage, throwing the bag down under the chair, before he started to guide the Thestrals on the journey back to Hogwarts.

"What'd you pick up?" Amy frowned, leaning forward tiredly

"Little black book," Rory smiled; "Doctor's told me to try and keep the timeline running as it should, or some techno-babble like that. Supposed to be Riddle's Diary."

O

Lellorian, proud centaur, galloped around Hogwarts castle. The boy would be here; it was certain. And sure enough, the black haired student wandered into sight, heading to his friend, the giant.

Lellorian knew the giant, too well. He'd attacked the giant once, knowing he would be of use. In the end however, Hagrid proved stronger. The centaur still smarted at the memory.

"Boy!" Lellorian boomed.

The child looked around, stepping back a little, surprised, as he saw the centaur.

The sallow creature galloped closer, moving with strong, confident leaps. He slowed, circling Harry a few times before stopping. Harshly, he glared from deep-set, darkened eyes.

"Will you obey me?" Lellorian demanded.

The black haired student tensed a little; of all things, he instantly remembered Malfoy's words. Though he harboured a distrust of the Slytherin, it seemed as if the blonde may well have been honest with his warning.

"Depends," Harry tried to hide the nervousness he felt.

"Yes or no!" Lellorian barked. Harry shrank back a little way, hands wandering to his wand.

"What do you want?" Harry gently slipped the wand out from his pocket.

"I want you to bring me something," Lellorian spoke in a deep, arrogant rumble, as if he couldn't so much as contemplate the fact someone would want to interrupt.

Momentarily, Harry scowled to himself. Malfoy hadn't been lying. The centaur wanted something; and no doubt, it was to be stolen, if Lellorian couldn't get it himself.

The student stepped back, slowly bringing his wand to his side. Quickly, Lellorian looked down, glimpsing the wand.

"_Everte Statum!_" Harry shouted, flicking a spell at the centaur. A ripple appeared to pass over the creature's chest; other than that, little happened.

Harry's eyes widened. He began to run, stumbling over the ground. Panting, the hex was discharged once again, from his wand: the centaur stumbled a little and, after a few steps, gave up the chase even though he could easily have caught up.

Harry groaned as he moved a little further away. Maybe he didn't have the time to visit Hagrid: which was a pain in itself, Hagrid was the person to talk to about insane centaurs.

_Everte Statum_ was meant to knock foes away. Hermione had elaborated on it after a mention in Lockhart's class: and yet, when used on Lellorian, barely anything happened. Was it just because he was a centaur?

O

Flickering lights flashed around the interior of the TARDIS. The Doctor knelt in the centre, below the main floor, with the black book. A large, metal spire was rising off the pages; the source of the lights.

It was mostly dull, grey metal, covered with a chaotic mix of coloured wires and blue lights. Looking worryingly fragile, it ascended almost half a metre off the page, tapering to a needle-thin point at the top. Nearer to the bottom however, it covered most of one page, crossed the spine, and continued onto the other. Steam puffed out of the sides.

"Done!" the Doctor shouted, grinning to himself and falling backwards. He landed flat on his back. Quickly, he scrabbled back onto his knees, an instant before Amy ducked down into the chamber.

"Please tell me you're not serious," Amy rolled her eyes; "There's no way he's gonna miss that."  
"Oh, alright," the Doctor made a face of childish disagreement, "Boring, aren't you?"

The Time Lord flicked a red switch on the side; almost instantly, the contraption vanished, leaving the book below, seemingly unaffected. Smiling, the Doctor picked the book up, shutting it and tossing it from hand to hand.

"What did you just do?" Amy blinked, a little surprised by the sudden vanishing of the machine

"Shuffled it along," the Doctor shrugged, "It's occupying a little space between the fourth and sixth dimensions."

"What about the fifth?" Amy frowned

"Oh, who needs the fifth? Nothing interesting ever happens in the fifth. Besides, ooh!" the Doctor jumped, "Pond! Pass the case."

"Yes sir," Amy muttered sarcastically, looking around.

Her eyes surveyed the area of the TARDIS console room around her. Either side, a mess of tools and equipment were thrown across the floor, only a small path leading to the Doctor's workspace was left clear.

Frowning, Amy knelt down, withdrawing the only case she could see; it was a mostly flat, plastic cuboid.

"Doctor?" She called

"Yes, that's the one!" he grinned

"This is a DVD." The redhead stated

"Yep," the Doctor grinned, "Well, a bit more advanced, but yeah."

"It's of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets," Amy stated again, in the same tone.

The Doctor nodded: "What better way to fake an event? Get a recording of it happening already, think about it Pond."

Bemused, Amy threw the case over at the Doctor. He moved to catch it, and the case flew straight threw his hands.

"The fifth was definitely better at that," he mumbled, crawling over to pick up the case.

Speedily, semi-luckily, he continued with his task: buzzing the diary with his sonic screwdriver, making the device reappear, tossing the disc into a slot near the base, and flicking the device back into the strange dimensional limbo.

"There," he grinned, satisfied.

"Do I want to ask?" Amy sighed, resigned to the Doctor's customary oddness.

"Probably not," the Doctor hopped to his feet, "So, we get someone to memory charm Ginny, make her think she's been possessed, and then pass her this book. Which, by the way, has been rigged in an exceedingly clever, technical way-"

"It's _steam powered_," Amy interrupted, waving her hands through the air to get rid of a wafting puff of steam.

"Yeah, it is," the Doctor nodded, "Steam power is cool. Actually, no it's not. Unless you're in Starlight Express, which happens more often than you'd think… But steam engines don't have writing recognition kind-of-soft-ware, and don't play holograms of a movie." He grinned giddily. A moment later, he corrected himself: "Actually, yes they do. Sometimes. But mostly, no they don't."

O

Rory Pond wandered down through the fields, swamped in darkness. It wasn't night, and yet the sunlight felt as if it had been washed away: probably an enchantment. He was nearer to the Forbidden Forest than he thought he'd be, and indeed should be.

A small trail of spiders wandered past his feet. He looked down, frowning.

While he hadn't read the books to anywhere near the degree he should've (the books were still hopelessly lost somewhere in the TARDIS), it was common enough not to follow such a synchronized stream of arachnids into a place with 'Forbidden' in the name.

Still, the trail made him curious. Squinting, Rory peered through the trees. Deep in there, flashes were visible; orange, white and blue, in irregular, uncoordinated bursts.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps, and twigs snapping, filled the air.

Inhaling, Rory backed away, running closer to the forest, turning a little, but not even breathing. The silhouette was moving towards the Forest.

Ok… It took him a few moments to think, and in reaction, he eventually decided to press himself to the rough bark of the tree, relying on darkness to hide him, as well as hoping the running shadow passed the other side of the trunk.

The noise continued, picking up in volume. Now he was quiet, he could focus on it; there was a sort of rhythm. It was more a gallop than normal steps, and yet it felt mildly irregular, as if unused to it.

A gust of wind brushed past him, carrying with it the smell of the woodland, as well as an unidentifiable stench. The creature had passed.

Still holding his breath, Rory looked sideways, catching a glimpse of whatever had run past him. He saw muscular legs, and matted, short brown fur covering a horse's body.

It was a centaur; one the Doctor and Dumbledore had both mentioned, quite possibly. Why would one ever leave the Forest?

Panting heavily, Rory made his way back to the castle. The flashes of bright white, blue and orange lights pulsed behind him, deep in the Forbidden Forest.

O

Harry Potter was bundled down the corridor, kept aloft by several spells. One arm lay limply at his side, unnaturally floppy.

A rogue bludger caused it: a Quidditch match, but only of the angry black balls had unremittingly chased after him, and him alone, By the end, he'd broken his arm.

And then Lockhart had insisted on 'helping', and by consequence, he was in a worse situation than he was to begin with. There was no bone in his arm; just floppy skin.

He was left in the Hospital Wing, after tasting some vile medicine intended to help him regrow his arm. Night quickly fell.

A hand gripping his shoulder soon awoke Harry. The black haired student fumbled for his glasses, finding them and, upon putting them back on, he looked up the pale hand which gripped his shoulder. He did not expect the face he saw.

"Malfoy?" Harry would have reacted somehow, if his arm wasn't so sore and useless.

"Shut it Potter," the Slytherin murmured curtly

"Come to gloat?" Harry muttered, facing up from the bed

"No. It's about Lellorian, if you'd actually let me speak."

"Huh?" Harry blinked, "The centaur?"

"Of course," Draco sneered, "You said no to him, right?"

"Of course." Harry echoed the Slytherin student's sentiment

"Knew it. He's gone back to talking to me; wants me to do his dirty work." Draco sounded repulsed by the idea.

Harry was a little surprised. He hadn't really seen much of Draco as a person; he'd mostly seen Malfoy the Slytherin, his public face. It was sometimes hard to remember that everyone else had their own lives.

"Why are you telling me?" Harry said, more mild-mannered this time

"A warning," Draco replied after a few seconds.

Harry inhaled; despite the fact his idea had just been illustrated. Malfoy, to his knowledge, wouldn't give any help to him at all, and yet apparently Draco had gone out of his way to warn him.

"Listen Potter," Draco muttered, "You know I hate you, but I hate Lellorian more. He's threatened Crabbe and Goyle. I don't really care, but you're Gryffindor, you like your friends a lot more. I don't think Lellorian's going to be upset if he has to hurt them."

With a cough, Harry shuddered.

So, the centaur was playing dirty; Harry fled, spewing curses, and now he'd returned and threatened Draco. Since Draco had seemingly refused, it was obvious Lellorian would speak to Harry again.

"Thanks Malfoy," Harry murmured grudgingly.

Draco sneered, not replying as he paced out of the Hospital Wing.

Slowly, the black haired Gryffindor exhaled, relaxing on the pillow. The inaction he was forced to take was a pain; for all he knew, Lellorian was preparing to threaten Ron and Hermione already. But he could do nothing.

Well, Harry reflected, maybe those new 'investigators', Rory, Amy and the Doctor, would do something about it.

He fell asleep, softly breathing.


	4. The Duelling Club

**This isn't so much a story chapter, more one I included just because I couldn't see the Doctor being in the Second Year and not mentioning it.  
Updates should be coming quicker soon as I've as good as finished my other fanfic.  
Also, I've noticed that line breaks are sometimes not-there rather than the normal break on this site. I'm not sure why that's happening, it looks like it's random, but I've fixed some of them.  
****Enjoy! **

"A duelling club?" the Doctor spluttered.

It was a staff meeting; all the teachers had been called to one of the many rooms in Hogwarts, to discuss a proposal of Lockhart's. The Doctor had been allowed, by kind permission of the headmaster, to sit in.

It turned out, the proposal was to create a duelling club among the students, to train them in case whatever had attacked Hestia came for any of them.

"I know it's in the book," the Doctor mumbled, "But _still_, why a duelling club?"

"As I recall," Snape spoke coldly, "You are here only as an observer."

"He is still permitted to speak, Severus," McGonagall spoke

A frosty silence descended over the table.

"Well, I think it's a good idea," Lockhart said cheerily, annoying, trying to inject some life back into the discussion.

"Of course you do! You suggested it," the Doctor spoke before anyone else could, earning a scowl from Snape, "What use is it, taking just students, and teaching them how to fight?"

"A creature wanders the halls, Doctor," Dumbledore spoke quietly. "It may be best that they know what to do."

"Not you too," the Doctor sighed, "Look, if you start teaching children to fight, where's it going to end?"

"Sooner than it would otherwise," Snape sneered, "Would you suggest we offer it flowers?"

"No," the Doctor closed his eyes, "But you don't even know what it is you're dealing with. Try talking to it, try words. Not magic words though, except please, that's a pretty magic word. Even if no one seems to use it. Try talking to it for once."

"And if it does not want to talk?" Snape raised his eyebrows

"If it doesn't want to talk, it's not going to want to duel," the Doctor said simply.

With that, the Time Lord stood up, repulsed by the need to preserve this violent piece of the timeline. He walked out, torn between hoping he'd changed things, and hoping the damage wasn't permanent.

O

One quiet footstep.

The tiled floor of Myrtle's bathroom was damp again, covered with the ghost's splashes of water.

"I told you-" the ghost came shooting straight through a cubicle door. She stopped upon seeing the newcomer; "Sorry, I thought you were a boy."

Amy Pond laughed nervously; "Yeah. Not really."

The redhead walked forwards, walking around the sink. She hadn't been told to go here; she just felt like seeing it for herself. The Chamber of Secrets. As long as the Basilisk wasn't planning on coming out soon, she should be fine.

"Why does no one pay attention to me?" Myrtle pouted

"Sorry," Amy shrugged, turning away from the sink. She could do nothing with them; "Hey Myrtle, can I ask you something?"

"Ok," Myrtle said slowly, attempting to sound cute

"How do you splash everywhere? You're a ghost, shouldn't it, you know, go straight through you?"

"I just do," Myrtle said sullenly, whirling back and, with a 'whee', plummeting into one of the toilets.

In response to Amy's words, a plume of water shot back. The redhead stepped back, avoiding most of the water.

Great, a ghost throwing tantrums. Amy sighed, looking back at the sink. Was there actually anything special about this, or was it unrelated to Earth's future fate?

There had to be some link. The Diary had been destroyed, bitten by the Basilisk. Was something controlling the Basilisk, or something else?

It always felt like that, knowing next to nothing about everything, but still blundering through, getting lucky a few times before finding the truth. The question was, what was the truth in this case?

Nothing. Amy rolled her eyes, pacing away from the sink. No clue.

O

Rory Pond ascended the spiral staircases of Hogwarts, finding his way through the winding corridors, until he found the statue entrance to Dumbledore's office. Upon saying the password, he rose up, before entering the TARDIS, hurried.

"Doctor!" Rory panted, "There's-"

"Yes?" the Doctor prompted after a few seconds of the man's panting.

Rory breathed heavily for a little longer, before gradually speaking up;

"There's something in the forest. I saw it, lots of lights. White, orange and blue."

"Lights in the sky?" the Doctor looked interested now; "that's usually exciting."

"No, forest. Not sky."

"Huh?" the Doctor looked crestfallen; "That's not nearly as fun!"

Rory rolled his eyes at the Doctor's typical childishness. Sometimes it was downright worrying how so much rested on his shoulders.

"What'd you see?" the Doctor asked, now paying attention.

"Stuff," Rory shrugged, unsure of quite how to describe it

"There's lots of 'stuff'." The Doctor muttered, "What kind of 'stuff'?"

"White, orange and blue," Rory repeated, "And that centaur ran past me."

The Doctor blinked.

"Centaur? Ooh, that guy's getting everywhere. Better not tell Amy."

The Doctor paused in though.

The Forest then; that seemed to be the ideal place to go to next. The ever-present centaur now had a link to a mystery with a more fixed abode: flashes of light within the Forest.

Evidently it was hiding; why else stay in the Forest? The creature was working on something, something involving lights, which he didn't want the students or teachers, or anyone for that matter, to find. And it was easier to hide things from the creatures of the forest, than those outside. In the forest, most things would shy away.

Whereas, those in Hogwarts, especially if the Doctor had a say, would poke it with sticks. The Doctor nodded appreciatively; that was an advantage to it being in the Forest. A grand, flashing mystery, and lot of sticks to poke it with.

"Let's go!" the Doctor grinned suddenly, barrelling out of the TARDIS

"Um…Doctor?" Rory raised a hand, almost comical in his interruption

"Yes Rory?" the Doctor slumped

"Can you really, um, go out to the Forest today? I thought it was the, you know, _thing_," Rory evaded directly mentioning it.

The Doctor groaned. For a few seconds, he contemplated running to the console and skipping forward a day, before giving up.

"Right, the Duelling Club," the Doctor sighed, "I'm expected to be there. Why, I don't know. No appreciation for bow ties at all."

O

The Duelling Club.

The rumour had spread like wildfire through the students of Hogwarts. Hestia's paralysis had affected them all, even Gryffindors with their prejudice against Slytherin: the idea that something was on the loose at the Sanctuary of Hogwarts was understandably disturbing.

Even being untrusting of Lockhart, as many were, so many wished to learn to defend themselves, and so the Great Hall was completely packed with students as the first Club began.

Harry Potter, Ron and Hermione were near the long stage, which ran almost from one end of the Hall to the other, surrounded by the frantic crowd of students, all eager to try and watch the stage.

With a flourish of his wand, Lockhart strode down the stage.

At one end of the hall, the teachers were gathered; including the investigators which had piqued the students' interest: Amy, Rory and the Doctor. The Doctor watched with darkened eyes, as Lockhart introduced the club:

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club," the teacher looked around cockily, "To train you up, in case you ever need to defend yourselves," he paused, delivering what was supposed to be a winning smile; "As I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works."

From the end of the stage, the Doctor frowned; he was sure that the books described Snape being on the stage with Lockhart. Maybe the Doctor's speech about the club had reached the teacher, or maybe it'd just annoyed him. In any case, Snape wasn't up there.

"Now, Professor Snape was going to be a volunteer partner," Lockhart turned around the look at the students again, "But he became unwilling. No doubt intimidated by my previous exploits," Lockhart grinned again.

Harry was half expecting Lockhart to catch fire, from the intensity of Snape's glare.

"Perhaps our guests from the Ministry would like to help?" Lockhart turned to the trio of time travellers down the other end of the stage; "I think it would help the students to see a professional, other than myself of course, take part." Lockhart grinned again; Amy looked at him disbelievingly, "I promise to go easy on you."

Silence spread for a few seconds; the students craned their necks in anticipation.

"Alright," one voice said.

All the teachers turned to stare at its source. The Doctor.

The Time Lord looked around at them; "Just to show you fighting isn't the only answer," he paced however, to Dumbledore, not to Lockhart.

"Albus," the Time Lord whispered, unheard by the others, "I know I shouldn't technically be doing this, but it never stopped me before. Do you mind fizzing the sonic, make it look more like a wand?"

"Fizzing?" the headmaster quoted, amused, subtly waving his own wand. The Doctor felt the sonic screwdriver lengthen in his hand, and gain the texture of wood.

"Sounds good," the Doctor shrugged.

The Time Lord clicked the sonic, and was greeted by a buzz and a green glow. It still worked; it was just the exterior that had changed.

"Thanks," the Doctor grinned once at the headmaster, before turning and walking straight down the stage, towards the waiting Lockhart. He held the transfigured sonic by his side.

A breathless murmur washed through the gathered students. The mystery of the three Ministry investigators had vexed them all, ever since the day they'd been introduced. Investigating what? Not to mention, they were rarely seen actually in Hogwarts. Rory seemed to be working on not being seen, Amy often visited Ollivander's, and the Doctor spent a lot of time in Dumbledore's Office.

Lockhart bowed sharply to the investigator. The Doctor inclined his head somewhat in reply. His wand was still loosely gripped at his side.

Several seconds ticked past; the duo walked away from each other, turning in the same instant. "On the count of three," Lockhart declared, "Three, two, one-"

The Doctor murmured something sounding vaguely mystical under his breath. Snape shot him a cold look; the students nearby just frowned. They didn't recognize the words, though they could hear the sounds. _Aroon, aroon-aroon…_

Gently, the Time Lord's finger ran up the side of his wand. A small green glimmer emerged from the tip as Lockhart finished the countdown.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Lockhart shouted.

The teacher's wand jabbed sharply forwards, controlled by his pale hand. No light came from it. Frowning, Lockhart repeated the incantation, swishing his wand again.

Silence reigned in the hall, except for the Doctor's quiet chanting.

Then, gently, sniggers ran through the students, eventually expanding to laughter for a few bawdy children.

"That's it!" the Doctor shouted, still keeping his sonic buzzing as he turned to look over the students, "This is the best example you need. You don't have to fight! If you're only going to take away one lesson from this school, let it be that one. If you need violence to prove your argument, well, then it's not a very good one in the first place."

The Doctor walked down the stage, striding straight past Lockhart, not even looking back. He stopped his murmuring a few metres past the teacher, and switched off the sonic at the same time.

"_Expelliarmus!" _The shout came across the hall, this time from Snape. A scarlet flash streaked through the air.

"_Protego!_" The Doctor buzzed the sonic back over his shoulder, biting his lips to stop himself saying more.

The students parted to let him through.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, the Doctor turned, a step from leaving. Amy and Rory were following him, edging around the outside walls. And a received a small, almost imperceptible, nod from Dumbledore.

Grinning, he left Lockhart standing, embarrassed and flabbergasted in the centre of the club. Amy giggled as the teacher tried to regain control of the crowd, shouting out about 'his' past exploits.

"Nice one Doctor!" Amy shouted to him, just outside the Hall

"I thought so too," he grinned broadly, giddy

"I may not have read them as recently as you," Rory began, "But I'm pretty sure that didn't happen in the books."

"Oh! Don't be such a stick in the mud Rory. Time can be rewritten." The Doctor rolled his eyes

"Doctor?" Amy murmured eventually

"Yes Pond?"

"What were you actually doing in there? I mean, it wasn't really a spell was it?" the redhead was frowning

"Huh? that? Oh, no it wasn't! The sonic disrupted any magic in the air," he tossed the still-transfigured wand-like sonic screwdriver from one hand to the other, before pocketing it, "Took a fair bit of effort to stop the candles falling down. I just needed an incantation to make it seem all Harry-Potter-y."

"What were you singing?" Rory tried to make conversation as they ascended stairs to head back to the TARDIS.

"Venusian lullaby," he grinned, "Been a while since I sang one of them. It translates pretty well." He started to sing: "Close your eyes. Well, three of them at least-"

"Oh, stop it Doctor!" Amy interjected, "You're awful!"

The Time Lord pouted like a child, looking away, before laughing.


	5. The Centaur And The Snake

**Next chapter! Mostly story continuation in this one, just to give a vague idea of what's going on. Updates on this should be pretty frequent.  
Although we're still a little way from the end, could you reviewers and anonymous followers let me know what you think of doing a crossover adventure for each of the Harry Potter books? this and Changes seem to have been fairly popular, and it does feel a little odd to cut off after just the second book.  
Anyway, let me know! But most importantly, enjoy! **

"Boy!" Lellorian shouted down the corridor.

Nervous, Harry Potter turned to look at the imposing centaur. A few weeks had passed since his last meeting with the creature: it hadn't ended well. He'd fired curses at it, and fled.

"I demand you obey," the centaur galloped closer, facing the student down.

Harry was silent, again backing away. He knew he couldn't just fling curses at the centaur; he'd tried that before, it had just rippled of its chest. Maybe he could levitate it? Nah, probably too heavy.

Lellorian bore down, bending his front two horse legs, until his head was even with Harry's. His darkened eyes glared forwards.

"I want you," Lellorian spoke in a quietly flaming voice, "To give me one thing. Take an object from the office of your headmaster, and bring it to me."

Harry stared back bravely, trembling. "No."

The centaur glared, letting out a horse-like whinny. The creature's breath smelt of decay; Harry flinched.

"You have one last warning," Lellorian spoke semi-levelly, arrogant, "Obey, or I will be forced to take more…drastic measures. I am unable to reach as far into the castle unseen. You however, will."

Harry was shaking by now; Draco was right. Lellorian was threatening, was trying to steal from the school by more untrustworthy means.

Steal from Dumbledore in fact. In those few seconds, Harry came to loathe the centaur; Lellorian cared nothing for others, wanted to steal from the greatest wizard of all, and would do anything to get someone to do so.

With both fear and fury, Harry glared at Lellorian. "I'll never help you."

A tense silence reigned for a few seconds.

"We shall see. I bear control over the beast your school cowers from."

With that dismissive statement, Lellorian raised himself up, towering over Harry, before galloping away.

O

"Name?"

The Doctor sat in his adapted classroom, transfigured sonic screwdriver on the table to his side. Once there had been a chair the opposite side of that table, but the Time Lord had fixed that; pushing the table out the way, and bringing the other chair around so he could face it.

A Sixth Year girl now sat on the chair, looking around the room hastily, eyes focusing on the plain walls, the wand, and then the Doctor.

"Rowena," she spoke clearly, despite her chaotic glances around.

"Hi Rowena," the Doctor grinned, somehow instantly putting the girl at ease, "So, you're Ravenclaw?"

The Sixth Year nodded, finger running down the blue fabric on her robe which identified her as such

"Rowena from Ravenclaw," the Doctor grinned, "That's good."

"I know," she slumped slightly, "Everyone on my mother's side of the family, she's the witch, was in Ravenclaw for years back. And my dad's dad and back were too. They couldn't resist naming me after the Founder." She sounded bored by the constant comparison

"No worries," the Doctor shrugged, "I met Gryffindor you know."  
Rowena blinked.

"Oh, right," the Doctor paused, "That would be odd, wouldn't it?"  
"A little," Rowena murmured slowly, starting to regret coming

"So, what'd you come here for?" the Doctor faced her again

She frowned, forgetting for a few seconds. Then, nodding slowly, she remembered; "I saw something. And you're meant to be investigating, so I thought…" she let herself trail off.

"What was it?" The Doctor leant forwards, voice comforting though his eyes betrayed a keen curiosity

"It was a centaur," Rowena blurted suddenly, "In the castle. It was talking to someone."

"A centaur," the Doctor murmured, distracted. He frowned, thinking. "Do you know who it was talking to? Please, this is important."

"A boy, black hair," Rowena squeezed her eyes shut, before sighing: "I know it sounds wrong, but I think it was speaking to Harry Potter."

Upon saying those words, Rowena tensed, tentative. Unless you were in Slytherin, accusing the Boy Who Lived was never a popular thing to do.

"Really?" the Doctor wasn't sceptical, anything but. If anything, he seemed more interested.

"I don't know what they were saying," Rowena's face fell, "But the centaur looked angry. It stomped away."

The Doctor nodded slowly, thinking to himself. Rowena wondered to herself; what was he doing? What was he thinking?

Even though he was supposed to be investigating, no one knew what, and he was rarely seen around the castle. Ever since his confrontation at the Duelling Club, news of which had spread like wildfire (and spawned the creation of a club by Fred and George Weasley titled 'The Lockhart-Sucks-Club'), he and his associated had been more withdrawn.

What was he thinking?

O

Scream. Thud.

Amy looked up sharply from her pacing. Something was happening; evidently.

A slow, greasy scraping sounded, something huge, heavy, dragging itself past. She pressed herself to the wall, hiding next to a suit of armour.

Quickly, she closed her eyes, upon seeing black snake-skin, the tip of its head. She couldn't look at its eyes; the other student, whoever they were, hopefully had some means of indirectly looking at its eyes. She had no protection; if he looked at them, she'd die, as the book said.

Seconds later, she peered right and, cautiously, opened her eyes. The leathery tail of the serpent slithered slowly past, eyes unseen. Amy exhaled in relief, before resolving to following the creature. When it had gone past at least.

A flick of a moist black tail. The redhead breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Then, cautious, she stepped out from by the suit of armour. The Basilisk had moved past.

Amy stepped cautiously along the Hogwarts corridor, pressing against the walls sometimes, and other times hiding again by suits of armour. Just a few blocks away, Myrtle's Bathroom lay.

The Basilisk was heading there, Amy was sure of it.

"Cease!" a deep, booming voice echoed down the hall.

It wasn't a teacher, and definitely wasn't a student. And something about the intonation was just off, Amy would've said alien if she didn't have more of an idea of how aliens talked. In any case, the voice was somehow feral.

Biting back heavy breaths, Amy ducked into an archway. Not the best hiding place, but the serpent and the stranger were hardly looking for her.

"Close your eyes. You know what may happen," the booming voice commanded.

Amy paled; according to the books, only the 'Heir of Slytherin' could command the Basilisk. But that stranger wasn't even using parseltongue, and they sounded nothing like Voldemort.

"He will not listen. He needs incentive. Proof that I am serious."

The crushing arrogance with which the voice spoke reminded Amy of the Doctor, sometimes. Sure of success, only this creature had no humour, no joy. Just something between need and want.

_Hiss_.

"No, do not kill," the stranger's voice was muted, yet was no less dominating, "I wish to make a point. However, we may do so later."

_Hiss._

Amy frowned, fighting the urge to lean out. She wanted to see who was talking, wanted to learn what boomed, to command the Basilisk.

And that hiss… It was the Basilisk, no question about it. Yet, something was off.

"Have you yet mastered control? You may well need it soon. When the boy succumbs, the third will rise."

_Hiss._

"Farewell."

The abrupt departure of the second voice caught Amy by surprise. And then, throwing caution to the wind, she peered out of the arch.

Over the dark, leathery back of the ancient Basilisk, a dark maroon horse's body galloped away, with a strong, tanned, human torso set resolutely above.

A centaur.

"He is pretty hot," Amy nodded appreciatively, before backing back into the arch. "Sorry Rory," she murmured to herself, amused.

The quiet drifting, the rubbing of snakeskin was the only sound for several seconds. Then a deep grinding; an old mechanism. More slithering, as the Basilisk, presumably in Myrtle's bathroom by now, entered the Chamber.

A high pitched scream caught Amy's attention. The redhead stumbled out of the arch, hearing a low grating as she ran.

Silence.

Seconds later, she entered the bathroom. Floors were wet, soaked, and some tiles were cracked under the weight of the serpent. The sinks were back in place, the entrance to the Chamber sealed once again.

Slowly, Amy lifted her gaze.

White lay in the air. Gaseous, like a cloud. A ghost, still as death.

Moaning Myrtle had been petrified by the Basilisk.

O

Moonlight shone down, casting eerie shadows through the bare branches of the tress. The Forbidden Forest at night.

Rory had mentioned lights; something curious, odd, unusual. Everything the Doctor liked, except for fezzes and bow ties, so the Time Lord had, without a question, decided to journey into the Forest. Sometime.

That time was now.

Strictly speaking, it might have been more prudent to visit day. But the Doctor had never been one for prudency; besides, nothing quite matched the feel of a forest at night. It just felt somehow wrong to travel somewhere dangerous in the bright of day.

Blue light buffeted the Doctor.

The Time Lord blinked, willing his eyes to adjust again.

There was definitely something going on; another flash, this time orange. Deep in the forest, something was causing these lights, these blinding flares. Hidden in the trees, something worked away

At what?

Unusually cautious, the Doctor moved onwards, deeper into the woods.

A white flash.

Then, for several minutes, nothing. A pause in the irregular beat of the lights. And it was then that the Doctor came upon what appeared to be a laboratory; a science station, hidden deep within the Forbidden Forest.

Someone really didn't want anyone to find it. The lights would scare off most woodland creatures, and no Hogwarts student would venture in here. Not to mention, the Doctor had the distinct feeling whoever ran the lab could take care of any unwanted intruders themselves.

Undaunted, the Time Lord walked further into the small clearing.

Huge, bronze cylinders, circles at least twice his height, rested either side of him; around a grey metal, constructed floor. In between them, something lay at waist height.

Those were apparently the main aspects of this operation; in the trees around, there were several lights, a few areas that gave more the feeling of necessity than science. Living quarters and the like.

The Doctor counted three beds, though two looked mostly unused. Three aliens then.

The Doctor looked again in front of him; a table-like object rested at the height of his waist, more or less. Despite the plain of the holder, resting above was a true marvel.

An intricate, metal hand grasped at the empty air; a few circuits were visible, guarded by clear, glass-like material. It was similar to a human hand; through it had just two fingers, an abnormally long, curved index finger, and a thumb just above it. Still, it resembled a hand, especially with the controlled motions. The hand bent forwards, moving smoothly along the mechanical wrist, and the thumb flicked at midair, the metal frame flexing.

It was then the Doctor noted what he assumed to be red colouring was slowly fading. It was heat-induced; the metal had been raised to some titanic temperature.

"That's hot," the Doctor murmured, leaning forwards.

It let of a gush of steam as he exhaled on it.

"Really hot," he murmured, looking up.

It was then he focused more on the huge cylinders either side of him. Deep in each one, there was a flicker of colour; blue. Like a trickle of gas, of flame.

Like the cannibalized boosters of a rocket, come to think of it. But at that precise moment, he was expending most of his thought on sprinting off the metal surface; realizing with a mounting horror that the soles of his shoes had melted somewhat on the floor. Pity; he rather like those shoes.

He mentally added them to his shopping list, along with a fez.

He leapt away, falling into a small thicket. A burst of heat roared behind him; three huge, blazing gushes rolling over the mechanical hand in quick succession, orange fire, blue fire, and then a searing white.

What could possibly need so much heat? It was like a test, like…like testing resistance. Seeing how immune to temperature that little marvel of a hand was.

But what would possibly need to go into that much heat?


	6. Threat

**Recently, most of the chapters have been fairly short, so this one's a little longer. Just a little though.  
I've tried to continue doing justice to the story and characters. Hopefully you'll agree. Enjoy!**

"How are things going Potter?" Draco fell out of a perch on the wall, pacing alongside Harry without even breaking his stride.

"Lellorian?" Harry frowned

"Of course," Draco said scornfully, "Like I'd be interested in anything else to do with you. Where'd you get the Polyjuice by the way?"

Harry blinked; he'd used Polyjuice potion with Ron and Hermione a few days ago, to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room, to find out about the Heir of Slytherin from Malfoy. But he didn't think Malfoy knew about it.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry hastily said

"Oh come on Potter, I'm not a complete fool. Professor Snape mentioned it this morning, and I know it fits."

Harry didn't say anything, unwilling to credit Malfoy's deduction.

"Be like that then," the Slytherin muttered sullenly, "What's the latest on the centaur?"

"I said no."

"Brave of you," Draco sounded almost, _almost_, admiring. "But he will carry out his threat. I know him better than you."

"I won't betray Dumbledore," Harry shook his head, resolute.

Draco raised his eyebrows. His face tried to be neutral, but he couldn't quite withhold a flicker of emotion; he was impressed.

Loyalty might not be a foreign concept to the Slytherin, but they certainly didn't meet all that often. Gryffindors were picked for that; Slytherins were chosen for independence, purity. Getting by without external help.

For some, that meant Pure Blood obsession, for others, it expressed itself as keeping secrets and working alone. For Draco, he looked after himself, and everything else was secondary. He refused Lellorian out of dislike; so he told himself, quenching any loyalty to Dumbledore.

"We'll see," Draco shrugged.

O

Rory looked doubtfully at the book in his hands.

The little black book he'd bought from Diagon Alley. It was supposed to take the place of Tom Riddle's Diary; a hologram generator hidden in it, shuffled along a dimension, to play clips of the movie.

"Lord Voldemort is-" Riddle flickered into life just opposite. Rory rolled his eyes, banging the diary with his hand. The film cut off.

"Great job Doctor," Rory muttered sarcastically.

He just hoped Harry didn't end up with the wrong part of the movie. It might take a little footwork to explain why Dobby would appear in the Chamber of Secrets.

So, where was he to go? The Doctor muttered something about Myrtle's petrifaction; a tragedy in both normal and temporal terms. Whatever _that_ meant: in any case, it sounded like the issue was to do with her bathroom. So, shrugging, Rory trekked through the castle.

Several minutes later, he found the floor unusually dry. Without Myrtle's constant interference, less water splashed; less chance of flooding.

Strangely nostalgic, Rory threw the hologram-Diary onto the floor, trusting that Harry would be the one to pick it up.

O

Harry Potter tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to get to sleep.

Earlier that day, he'd had an alarming immersion in Tom Riddle's Diary, but that wasn't the reason for his apparent insomnia. Draco's words kept playing, over and over in his head.

_He will carry out his threat._

What could Lellorian do? Hogwarts was protected by Dumbledore, wasn't it?

But did that mean anything to a centaur? After all, they resided in the Forest presumably with the Headmaster's permission. They lived in the grounds of Hogwarts. Inescapable.

One thing gave the schoolboy hope however: they did not live in or near the castle. Lellorian should have no easy way to access it: after all, he couldn't get to Dumbledore's Office to find whatever item it was that he wanted.

_He will carry out his threat._

The words still resounded in his mind, frightening.

How?

Harry could picture the centaur's strong, wide face, proportions just different enough from those of a human's to be unsettling. Add into that Lellorian's unnatural, powerful, yet slightly shambling gallop, it was possible to believe he would manage anything.

But Harry refused to betray Dumbledore. Loyalty was important to him; to all Gryffindors.

But equally, loyalty was to more than just one person. Loyalty also to his friends; friends who Lellorian threatened.

_He will carry out his threat._

Harry escaped into a few moments of haunted sleep. Lellorian's face, twisting into a furious snarl, roared behind his eyelids.

O

"How are things going, Doctor?" Dumbledore said kindly, sitting on the chair in his office

"Oh, you know. Pretty well Albus. By the way, you do know someone's building a hand in your Forest?" the Doctor muttered, matter-of-factly, distracted by waving his still-transfigured sonic through the air, practising magic-style movements

"A hand?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, interested, "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. There are a great many kinds of hands."

"A metal one," the Doctor swished his 'wand' again, grinning, "One that can take a lot of heat. A _lot _of heat."

"Really?" Dumbledore nodded slowly, "Do you know why?"

"Nah," the Doctor shook his head, "Not that much heat. Nothing on Earth is that hot. Well, a few things actually. But they're not technically from Earth. And most aren't in this time; except for a few volcanoes, but why stick a hand in a volcano?" the Doctor sighed; "I've had bad experiences with hands. They usually end up attached to a body."

"That is often the function of a hand," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"They can grow into bodies too," the Doctor continued, murmuring mostly to himself. "So as long as no one regenerates or goes to a nuclear power station, we're fine."

"Did you not say it was metal?" Dumbledore creased his brow, "How is it to grow?"

"Well, yeah," the Doctor shrugged, "But we can hope for some excitement can't we?"

"Indeed."

O

A deckchair and a book.

Not the most complicated or magical set up, but it worked for Amy. She sat just outside the Third Floor bathroom, reading the second Harry Potter book. Again.

Sometime, she guessed, the Basilisk would leave the room. Then, she'd be waiting. She'd follow it; find out what it was doing.

A Third Year Hufflepuff boy had been petrified earlier. She'd heard him; but hadn't been able to help; not with the snake slithering past.

Never again.

This time, she'd taken a hand mirror from the TARDIS (It had the word 'Romana' etched on the back, for some reason). Just in case the Basilisk went near anyone, they wouldn't die from its glare. The mirror could save them that. She hoped.

Petrifaction was better than death.

The redhead sighed, going back to the book.

It was hard to read the Duelling Club chapter without laughing. Things didn't happen like that; well, not this time.

Slither.

The scraping noise of leathery flesh on tiles and stone drew her out of her reverie. Slamming the book shut, Amy backed up, back against the wall. Eyes firmly shut.

The Basilisk was back. According to the book, she remembered, it was supposed to be using the pipes. Evidently, it hadn't quite mastered that this time. It relied on the times during lessons at which few people were in the corridors.

Honestly, she could barely believe the better part of a year had gone by. Then again, it hadn't really: the TARDIS had skipped forwards on random weeks, still a little unwieldy from the magical atmosphere at Hogwarts. It hadn't been any more than a month for her.

Eyes open. Slowly, the moist tail of the great serpent drifted past. Somehow, its movement appeared more purposeful.

It was aiming for something.

Someone.

More intrigued than ever, Amy followed, being sure not to peer into the shimmering eyes of death. Black scales dominated her vision; she didn't remove her eyes from it for a moment. If it turned and she was unaware…

Amy found herself darting to the walls, stepping as quietly as she could, every few minutes. More out of caution than anything. Sometimes it twitched as if preparing to turn, but luckily it never did.

Was the Basilisk obeying the centaur? After all, she heard them conversing yesterday.

They sounded as if discussing a threat, an attack on someone/ Who? Amy had the horrible feeling she'd find out.

As she cautiously advanced, a stream of spiders scrambled past her feet. Just like the book said; spiders flee before it. They run from the Basilisk.

A piercing scream brought her back to reality; the Basilisk reared and, as it did, so, the scream was cut off.

Amy hadn't managed to use the mirror. She pursed her lips, hoping this latest victim hadn't seen the serpent's eyes directly. Otherwise they'd have died; so far no one had. But it was only a matter of time, especially with the wild Lellorian speaking, controlling things.

Panting, the redhead pressed herself against the wall, trying to inhale all breaths silently, trying to remain unnoticed by the serpent as it began to turn. She squeezed her eyes shut, hiding by a statue.

Slither.

The scraping of snakeskin and stone was tantalizing; a constant whisper. _Open your eyes. _She could practically hear real, whispering voices in the featureless rumble. But she couldn't; who knew how far it had turned? The noise hadn't become any louder or quieter. Just varying in pitch; turning on the spot.

The great serpent continued turning, agonizingly slowly from Amy's unseeing viewpoint. Its thick tail moved, flailing semi-uncontrolled, sallow, dark, brushing past Amy's face as the snake turned.

Her breath caught in her throat; _please don't see me, please don't see me, please don't see me._

Her frantic inner voice paid off. The scraping of the slithering creature slowly began to lessen, until Amy was quite sure it had left.

She opened her eyes.

Laying limply on the floor, in the centre of the corridor. There was a Second Year girl. Her pale hands were curled slightly, her eyes wide, her hair seemingly stunned also. She was staring away from the Basilisk; at what appeared to be a fairly reflective sheet of glass.

The girl was Hermione Granger.

And beyond the glass, a centaur stood, hooves firmly on the floor, hands holding the glass aloft, and eyes, recently opened, glaring at Amy.

The centaur had helped the snake; glass to reflect its glare. They'd worked together to petrify Hermione. And he still stood there; awaiting the serpent's departure before moving, much like Amy.

"My name is Lellorian. And you, girl?" his nostrils visibly quivered

"Amy. Amy Pond; and I'm not scared," the Scotswoman stared defiantly back.

"Well, _Amy_," Lellorian put unneeded, mocking emphasis on the word, "You are now my prey," the centaur leant forwards, face almost touching the glass. "You should be scared."

With that, Lellorian charged through the screen, shattering the glass he held as powerful hooves galloped forwards, swiftly moving across the stone floor.

Amy backed away, turning, beginning to run. Lellorian leapt over Hermione. Amy turned fully, inwardly knowing how little chance she had of outrunning him; he was a centaur after all. Body of a horse; and there was no way she could outrun a horse.

Still, she persevered. The Doctor taught her that much.

Still, with a quick glance back, her fears were confirmed. The tanned, rough flesh of Lellorian's arm reached out, thick nails almost like claws. His face was spread into a feral snarl.

"_Lumos Solem!_" a boy's voice shouted.

A blinding ray of light made Amy screw her eyes shut, looking down, to the side, away from the yell. The glaring flare continued to shine for seconds more; however she still heard Lellorian galloping, blindly, on.

Arms caught her around the waist, and pulled.

"Stay quiet," Draco Malfoy's voice whispered urgently in her ear.

Quite naturally, she obeyed. Lellorian's roar, furious, anguished at failing to catch the redhead, echoed throughout the corridors.

"What are you doing here?" Amy mumbled to the Second Year.

"I know him," Draco sounded bitter, "It's obvious who he'd go for, with a little thought. He threatened Harry, so it's either Ron or Hermione. And Ron's always with people: Hermione walks around alone. She's the obvious target, and I didn't want Lellorian to get away with anything else, even with a mud-blood."

"You've given this a lot of thought," Amy murmured

"No," Draco shook his head after a second's pause, before speaking dismissively; "It's obvious."

"Right," May wasn't convinced, "And don't use that word."

"What word?" Draco frowned

"You know what word: 'mud-blood'. I'm muggle-born too," Well, she was, even if not in the way she implied, "It's not the right word."

"It's the word I grew up with," Draco shrugged it off, almost aggressively.

A few seconds later, he looked around. Amy blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust; she'd been taken into an empty classroom.

"I think Lellorian's gone," Draco muttered to himself.

He didn't wait for a response, as he paced out the room.


	7. Theft

**Chapter 7!  
We're beginning to near the finale, but there are still several chapters to go. And I quite like the exchange near the end of this chapter. Third from the end; just to say, for that bit, I'm not planning to bring her in, but I love her character, so I thought I'd make a reference.  
Anyway, sorry if the writing near the end wasn't my best, I woke up yesterday with a spontaneous cold. Which is always a pain. **

Rory walked along the walls of Dumbledore's office, frowning, sighing.

"Be quiet Rory, I'm working," the Doctor said suddenly, waving his wand-like sonic screwdriver through the air.

"Working?" Rory said disbelievingly, "You've been waving that thing around for hours."

"Yeah, well, it's a kind of work!" the Time Lord shot back, defensive.

Rolling his eyes, Rory went back to pacing. Eventually he reached Dumbledore's desk, at which the headmaster sat, reading a thick book.

"Professor," Rory began, "Can I ask something?"

"Of course," Dumbledore looked up, eye twinkling

"How is it the wands work? I mean, everyone says it chooses the person, but it can't do that unless it's alive or something."

"That, Mr Pond, would depend on how you define life," the headmaster smiled enigmatically.

"Uh…something that's living," Rory frowned, voice taking on a questioning tone

"They do not breathe," Dumbledore's comforting voice started once more; "They do not eat or sleep. But they do think; as Ollivander would say, the wand chooses the wizard, Rory. If they choose, they must also put thought into the matter. I believe they do live: the magic infused in them makes it so."

A cry echoed through the office; the Doctor's. A shout of triumph.

"What is it?" Rory turned, half-dreading the answer

"I've figured it out!" the Doctor tossed the sonic from one hand to the other, before pocketing it.

"That's nice," Rory paused, "Figured what out?"

"The theft of course! I sent Amy to investigate it, some people stole loads of wands from Ollivander's. It was niggling at the back of my mind until now."

Rory blinked; one mystery solved, even if one which seemed as good as unrelated.

"Remember what was in the forest?" the Doctor rambled on, "Huge rockets. I mean, _huge_ rockets," he gestured by holding his hands as far apart as he could, before shrugging, "Not big enough. And they weren't really rockets; not the right kind of engine. But they were used as rockets, salvaged from, probably, a crashed ship. But what's powering them? I totally forgot that. Probably because I don't have a fez, I always think better when I'm wearing a fez," the Doctor paused for a moment, contemplating

"Anyway…" Rory prompted

"Ah, yes. Well, that's what the wands were for! They were stolen by whoever or whatever's in the Forest as a power source. Well, adaptor would be a better word; siphoning the magic out of the air to power the engines," the Doctor grinned again, "Oh, and probably to power the handy hand. I had a handy hand once. It grew."

Rory refused to even try and understand what the Time Lord ended up babbling about.

However, he did understand the start of the rant. Whatever lived in the Forest, possibly the centaur he'd seen going into the Forest, was building a very heat-resistant hand. The magic built into the wands was a power source, and a funnel to gain power, for the machines: in Hogwarts, electrical devices did not work.

The steady grinding of the entry gargoyle ascending to the office filled the room. Curious, they turned, to see Amy stumbling in.

"Lellorian," she said, panting, "The centaur's called Lellorian. And he's controlling the Basilisk," she swayed a little, unsteady on her feet, "Never try to outrun a horse."

O

"Boy!" Lellorian shouted.

Harry turned. They were in the grounds outside Hogwarts; the black haired student had been on his way to visit Hagrid, while Ron sat with Hermione in the Hospital Wing.

"I knew I'd find you," Harry shouted, voice barely carrying through the wind

"Do you intend to obey?" Lellorian's inhuman glare bored into Harry's

"No!" the Boy Who Lived retorted; "I'm not your puppet. And you won't make me obey by attacking my friends."

"You are lying. The scent is clear on the air."

"I'm not," Harry shook his head, "The more you hurt my friends, the more I turn against you."

"Indeed," Lellorian's glare did not change at all in intensity. "Perhaps it was a mistake to move the girl beyond all harm. I disbelieve that you are unaffected however."

"I'm not," Harry's voice quietened for a few seconds, "But I won't betray Dumbledore."

"Loyalty!" Lellorian let out a harsh bark of laughter, "Is such a thing more important than all the students of Hogwarts School?"

Still laughing, the centaur turned, galloping away. One last cry echoed through the air:

"Things are not yet over. If you do not bring me the object, more shall occur."

O

Draco Malfoy walked calmly along the grass.

He was alone now; thankfully. He preferred being so. It was a Slytherin trait to seek out allies more than friends, and only the right kind, the right blood, would do. As a consequence, each friend saw him differently. It was hard to tell which knew the Malfoy most true to the real Draco.

Sometimes, it seemed to him, Slytherins did not know him at all. While most of them laughed from their arrogant perches as the catastrophes, the writing on the wall and the petrified students, Draco was actively doing something. Even if he was helping a Gryffindor, he was spiting Lellorian.

That meant a lot to him. While some did good for benefits to the other good, Draco felt more like one of those who did good for the purpose of hurting those less good.

"Boy!" Lellorian's irritatingly familiar voice carried over the hill.

Scowling, the blonde sat up. Mentally, he recited a dozen curses his father had taught him, as he always did, just in case he really wanted to get rid of the centaur.

"I told you already. No," Draco hastily removed all emotion from his face.

He even, just, managed to quench the shock which rose upon seeing the centaur's animalistic face. Lellorian continued to move forwards.

"Consent is not needed," he sounded almost mechanical.

Footsteps like clockwork, the centaur came closer.

"_Flipendo_!" Draco shouted, yanking out his wand.

It was the first time he'd flung a curse at the centaur. The way the knockback jinx simply rippled over Lellorian's chest suggested it wouldn't be the last.

"_Immobulus!_" Draco shouted again, beginning to back away.

The curse was intended to freeze a person in their tracks. On Lellorian, his skin appeared to stiffen for a few moments, though something still pushed him on. He didn't break stride; far from it, he moved into a faster gallop. Still, the muscles in his face and chest seemed more tense.

"_Tarantallegra!_" Draco jabbed his wand again. The curse was intended to make Lellorian lose control of his legs; the front two jerked slightly, but little more.

"_Depulso! Flipendo! Colloshoo! Alarte Ascendare!_" Each attempted hex did little more than make Lellorian stumble; often less than that, simply making his flesh ripple.

The centaur was almost touching Draco. The boy felt a sudden pang of fear.

"_Diffindo!_" Draco shouted.

A scowl crossed Lellorian's face, and a deep cut appeared over the centaur's shoulder. Before Draco could try it again however, Lellorian's fist collided with his face; a very un-magical display of brute force. Draco collapsed.

O

"Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped," Dumbledore said solemnly, sitting in his office. "By whom, we do not know."

Amy looked at the headmaster, shocked. The Doctor slumped; and Rory span around, frowning, puzzling as to whether it happened in the book. From the reaction of the others, it hadn't.

"That can't happen," the Doctor fell back; "That just can't." he paused. "Any clues?"

"None," Dumbledore spoke simply; "He didn't turn up to a lesson, and upon searching, it was revealed he was no longer in the castle."

"Lellorian," Amy said confidently. "Has to be."

She couldn't hold back a pang of guilt: Draco had saved her from Lellorian. Had the centaur exacted revenge?

"At least we know he's alive, "Rory said. "It's not like him to stop setting the Basilisk on everyone."

"Ah, but would you wish to be imprisoned?" Dumbledore looked up. "Especially by such a creature."

"He's right," the Doctor sighed; "I was imprisoned once, for a year. Started in a dog kennel, then a bird cage. I was never knew where he bought the cage," the Doctor looked up, distracted for a moment, before shrugging, "Anyway, I wouldn't advise it. Unless you can get the whole world to shout your name, but that isn't easy."

The group gave a collective sigh.

O

Two red headed boys peered out from a stone balcony, looking out over the hall, at all the crowds of students pouring through. They tossed a small, thin, bouncy, squidgy plastic ball between them; like a balloon filled with water.

Then, with a grin at each other, they threw it down. It exploded with a splash on the ground, sending water cascading everywhere; water which somehow managed to get nothing at all wet. And more balls of plastic inflated and bounced out of the first; more illusory water, and bouncing spheres, being spread.

Laughing, the identical duo turned, about to walk down from the small stone perch. They walked into a man in a brown coat, their heads level with a bow tie.

"I need your help," the Doctor said firmly, before pausing; "Or rather, I need the help of Moony, Worm-Tail, Pad-Foot and Prongs."

The students exchanged a look.

"He knows about the map Fred," one red headed boy said

"I noticed, George," the second twin said, in the exact same tone.

"Nice try," the Doctor laughed, "You're Fred," he pointed to the one identified as George, "You're George," he pointed to the other.

"He's good," both twins said at once.

"I need the Marauder's Map," the Doctor repeated his request, impatient, "I know you don't tell anyone what it is until the next year, but I thought I'd speed things up."

Looking at each other once more, the twins took out a small piece of parchment from their bag. Tapping it with the tip of his wand, Fred whispered: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Long, spindly lines of black ink drew themselves along the yellowing paper. Scribbles moved themselves, rearranging until they formed a readable depiction of Hogwarts. Named scribbles wandered the corridors, including, the Doctor noted with glee, _Rory Pond_. Lellorian was not depicted.

Fred and George looked up at the Time Lord, surprised. The Doctor's name was not written on the magical map; just eleven small dots, composing the location of his figure, and a blank label.

About a minute later, the Doctor tapped the map with his wand: "Mischief managed." More words appeared on the paper, as the drawing was erased.

_I very much doubt that, Doctor._

The Time Lord frowned, before rolling his eyes at the signature which appeared soon after: _River Song._

The Doctor had the distinct feeling she'd never visited Hogwarts, and was just trying to annoy him. In any case, he muttered one last thing: "Why did you bother?"

_Spoilers._

Sighing away a chuckle, he handed the parchment back to Fred and George Weasley. Then, with a glance over the balcony, his face cracked into a childlike smile: Snape was wandering down the hall. Giving a quick glance to both Fred and George, he pointed his sonic out over the balcony edge. One of the last illusory, magical water-bombs thrown down by the twins bounced over to the Potions Master; he sneered it at. Then it promptly exploded with real water, drenching Snape's robes.

"Wicked," Fred and George said in the same instant.

The Doctor gave a mock bow, walking away.

Inside however, he was nowhere near as joyous as he let on. With the map, he hoped to see where Draco had been taken. The Slytherin was not on the map; meaning he was either outside the Hogwarts grounds, or in a hidden area, such as the Chamber of Secrets.

That was probably why River left the note; a quick reminder to not give up hope. Like he ever would.

O

Harry ran out of the castle, knowing full well who'd be waiting.

Sure enough, Lellorian stood there, expression as arrogant as ever. "You took him!" Harry shouted. The centaur's lip curled to a sneering smile

"I have. Draco Malfoy belongs to me now," Lellorian looked down at the black haired student.

Harry said nothing. Inside, he was burning too much: Draco had once been targeted to help the centaur. Now, nothing. They'd given up, and taken him, stolen him.

"How many more?" Harry said, struggling to suppress anger

"As many as it takes," Lellorian's gaze never wavered, "Hestia, Colin, Hermione, Adaryn, Violet, now Draco. If needs be, we will bring Hogwarts down, brick by brick, and take it then."

"Don't expect me to make this easier for you," Harry gripped his wand tightly.

For a few seconds however, he noted the 'we'. More than one centaur? Or something else?

"Do you care nothing for their lives?" Lellorian didn't sound questioning. He was commanding, dominating. "Then we need not keep Draco."

"Let him go."

"Why would I do that?" Lellorian spoke, scathing, "What possible reason would I have to release the child?"

Harry tensed.

"You say you are loyal to Hogwarts," Lellorian's voice deepened, growing coarser, "Does that extend to the people within? I think you will find I am capable of achieving great harm should I wish it. The headmaster for example. I wonder if it would be possible to reach him."

The centaur was bluffing of course; it was a struggle to go too far into Hogwarts, unnoticed, and he'd narrowly escaped notice a couple of times. He'd been injured, as the scar over his shoulder, held together by a vine from the Forest, attested to. And this was without going after the teachers and older years.

Still, Harry didn't, couldn't know that. Lellorian's darkened eyes gave no clue; his strong frame radiated only confidence.

"And in truth, what harm do you believe I could wreak by an item held by your headmaster?" the centaur's voice had sunk from its violent tones, to a more seductive wildness, "Give me just this one item from his office, and I shall leave you."

A tense few seconds ticked by. Harry frowned, shaking, confused. He couldn't ask for help, couldn't get any, and now he was forced to choose. Defy Lellorian, and set him on a rampage through Hogwarts, or obey, betray and steal from Dumbledore?

"What do you want me to do?" Harry said shakily.

He had no choice. He needed to save lives. This was the only way to do that.

Still, he felt so, so guilty.

O

"Sir," Harry Potter spoke shakily to the Doctor.

The Time Lord looked down, surprised: "Call me Doctor," he grinned, "What do you want to say?"

"You said you were investigating," Harry hesitated for a moment, afraid, "I think there's something you should know."

"There's a lot I should know," the Doctor nodded appreciatively, "But most of it's probably not here. I need to know where I can buy a fez, how to get rid of boring blue switches, how-" he paused, thinking

"It's about a centaur," Harry quickly interjected, speaking in the small, available gap.

"Ah," the Doctor's face fell. "Lellorian."

"Y-yeah," Harry was a little surprised that the Doctor knew the name.

"Come with me," voice sunken to dreary seriousness, the Doctor reached out. Harry followed.

It took several minutes of wandering until they reached Dumbledore's Office. From there, they ascended on the gargoyle.

"Wait here," the Doctor said quickly, darting away, around a blue box which seemed very out of place. Behind it, he flicked Dumbledore's Deluminator, sparking several lamps to life.

Fawkes the Phoenix tilted his head at Harry. As the Time Lord left the room, Harry darted over to it, feeling the need to justify himself: "Please don't tell them," he murmured to the firebird, "I'm trying to protect people."

Several minutes later, the Doctor and Dumbledore re-entered the front of the office, to see Harry Potter sitting down, politely. As they began to converse, learning what Harry knew about Lellorian, they did not know of the small, stolen item resting in the pocket of Harry's robe.

Fawkes looked over at him with a baleful eye.

The Boy Who Lived pushed down his guilt, telling himself it was for the best. He hoped.


	8. Too Far

**1. Please don't hate me  
2. Hee, sorry for last chapter, but it had to happen sometime.  
3. Please don't hate me.  
4. A bit of a shorter chapter. We're getting near the end, so some will be longer, some shorter.  
5. Please don't hate me. **

"Doctor," Dumbledore spoke, running a hand down, through his beard.

It had been a day since their conversation with Harry. Nothing had happened since; it was as if Lellorian and the Basilisk had withdrawn. Even the flashes in the forest, watched by Rory, had gone down.

"Yep?" the Doctor plopped himself down on a pile of books.

"I find myself unable to find one of my possessions. In such an office as this, it is not surprising," the headmaster waved his and around, gesturing at the unordered mess, "Still, it feels odd."

"Nah, don't worry," the Doctor grinned, "I lose stuff all the time. It turns up in a couple of years. Or centuries. Mostly," he frowned, "Though I did lose that planet a while ago. Never sure where it ended up," his voice trailed off, "Or when…"

"So, to wait then?" Dumbledore opened his eyes wider, contemplating

"Probably best," the Time Lord shrugged.

"I suppose it is for the best," Dumbledore sighed, "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"It's not so bad," the Doctor shrugged, "I'm nine hundred and seven."

"I find that hard to believe," Dumbledore commented.

A silent few seconds passed by.

"Are you being serious?" the headmaster eventually queried, surprised by the lack of the normal joking glint in the Doctor's eyes

"Absolutely," he paused, "I think. I lost track around a thousand."

Dumbledore frowned for a moment, before dismissing it. Who could even try to understand the Time Lord?

After a few quiet seconds, the Doctor began to ramble.

"So Lellorian was trying to get Draco and Harry to obey him, even if they don't know why," he summarized, "And he's also talking to the Basilisk, according to Amy. But not in Parseltongue. He's even kidnapped Draco Malfoy, and taken him to the Chamber of Secrets. They stole wands to power a handy hand in the Forest, which is resistant to heat, there are three things total, they stole from your Office, and somehow, somehow this all ties in to the end of the world, in the future."

He frowned, tapping his head incessantly.

"What am I missing?"

O

Fred and George were wandering around the grounds when they saw it.

Hagrid was tending to a giant pumpkin, batting away huge, rolling slugs with what appeared to be a giant pair of oven mitts. Then he looked up.

Still wrapped in guilt, Harry Potter saw it with a pang of fear, while on his way to see his giant friend.

Ron was on his way back from visiting Hermione in the Hospital Wing. He was unable to see it, but he heard the noise, a violent wave rushing through the old stone bricks of Hogwarts.

The Basilisk heard the roar, and a small, sallow smile spread across its serpentine face as it rested upon a pile of bleached bones, deep in the hidden Chamber of Secrets.

Peering out the window, Lockhart saw it while in the middle of class. While he put on a confident face, he was unsure inside.

Severus Snape only heard the noise, a loud rumble, from deep in the dungeons.

In the Forbidden Forest, numerous creatures paused and froze, many looking up, more burrowing down, into the earth. Wolves howled, and the real centaurs looked up to the sky in their hordes. With a whinny, most moved on. It was not their concern.

Lellorian stepped back from far beneath it, watching, ears and eyes protected by metal headgear. Another creature stood at his side, equally pleased, triumphant.

Rory Pond was on his way back from delicately ransacking the Gryffindor Common room, reclaiming Tom Riddle's Diary as the book required, when he heard the noise. Rushing to the nearest window, he saw it.

Amy was riding in a carriage, back from Diagon Alley from her investigations and subtle shopping, when she saw it.

High up in a tower, the Doctor and Albus Dumbledore heard the rumble. Each turning, they looked out, over the castle, towards the spectacle.

It came from within the Forbidden Forest.

From deep inside the eerie green, a long streak of white rose. A flare of shining light, easily surpassing the tallest trees, shot up to the sky. Beneath it, great wooden monuments fell, burning.

Transfixed by the scene, it was a few minutes before any wizards ran forwards to help with the slowly growing Forest fire.

The shining streak of light rose further, launching itself from the forest floor. A boom ripple outwards; like a thunder-crack. And still, the unseen thing rose, leaving the blur, the trail of fire and light.

A rocket. It had to be; the noise and look gave it away.

Trail of flame soon disappearing, the rocket shot out and through the sky, to space beyond.

It was formed from the more primitive materials and contraptions available on Earth, but with advanced knowledge behind it, the rocket was more advanced than expected. Still, it would be quite some time before it reached its target.

Deep in the Forest, amidst the burning trees, Lellorian looked up, a fierce grin on his face. A deep scar ran down his shoulder from Draco's curse, slowly spreading.

Beside the centaur, a very different, alien figure stood.

O

"Think Hermione's going to be alright?" Ron murmured the words, to the seat next to him in the Gryffindor Common room.

"Of course. The Mandrakes have almost grown, then everyone will be healed," Harry grinned, mentally appending 'except Draco'.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron sounded almost sullen.

Harry exhaled slowly, before drawing a long, silvery sheet out from his trunk. At just the right angle, the light seemed to pass straight through the transparent material.

"Your dad's cloak?" Ron leant forwards, "You're seriously gonna use that?"

"Why not?" Harry watched as his hand vanished within it, "I think we need to see Hagrid."

Ron nodded. Slowly, semi-reluctant, Harry wrapped the weightless material around himself, silvery fabric rendering him invisible. Smiling at the sensation, he peered out through the translucent stitches, readjusting to the look of the light.

"Where are you?" Ron called out after a few seconds.

"Ah, right, here," Harry lowered it, until it rested over his neck. "Sorry."

"Warn me when you do that," Ron panted, shaking his head. "Scares the hell out of me."

The Boy Who Lived took in the comment, though only half-listening. Mind abuzz with thoughts of Lellorian and the flare in the Forest, it was hard to pay much more attention to the real world.

At this very instant, Draco was with Lellorian. Abducted. At the centaur's mercy.

And he didn't have a clue what was going on. No idea whatsoever. There was no reason to hurt the Slytherin, no reason to do anything; but Harry put little to no faith in the trustworthiness of that centaur.

Guilt played in his mind also. He'd given…that to Lellorian. Stolen from Dumbledore, hoping it'd help the school. The only thing he could do.

And then, something had shot out from the Forest. Harry couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Hagrid huh?" Ron said after a moment

"Yeah," Harry threw the cloak over his back, keeping his head visible, "He was here the last time the Chamber was open, and he's closer to the Forest. Maybe he knows more about the light."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, shrugging, "Move over then."

The redhead stood up, before ducking under the cloak. Soon both he and Harry were unseen, as they made their way out of the security-tight Hogwarts.

O

Amy stood by the fringe of the grand Forest.

The sudden flashes of light both Amy and Rory had mentioned were no longer there. It seemed as if they too had been lost in the fire, or even flown away on the rocket. Instead, darkness reigned, swelling through the trees. Beyond a few metres, nothing was visible.

Ever-curious, Amy took a step into the Forest. Half a metre on, it felt as if sound had been stolen from the air; whether it was magic or coincidence, the clicking of crickets and the normal sounds of the school both ceased.

Quietly, the redhead took a few more steps into the Forest. It was time to see what was going on: who sent the flare up?

Lellorian? Anyone else?

Clink.

Her breath caught in her throat; her foot had touched metal. She was in the main lab, the one the Doctor had seen.

Oh, what she wouldn't give for a wand…

"_Lumos_," she muttered to herself, instead of using anything magical though, in fact using her sonic screwdrivered phone, flicking it on.

The quiet radiance of the screen illuminated a little of the clearing. It was easy to see some changes: the giant engines the Doctor had seen were both gone, and the small, flicking hand no longer rested on the floor. It was nowhere to be seen; perhaps they were both on the rocket.

The only sign Amy was in the right place, was the pedestal in the centre of the clearing. Upon closer observation, it was stuffed with snapped wands and a mess of wires, drawing magical energy.

Also, the floor was covered with a thin sheen of ash. Proof of the immense heats that were once roaring across it.

Seconds later, a twig snapped. Amy looked up suddenly, masking the glow of her phone.

Ok, not good.

Illuminated only by a dusty aura of starlight, a strange being moved through the Forest. Could it see her? She hoped not. Still careful however, she all but halted her breathing, becoming as quiet as possible in the almost complete darkness.

"I know you're there, little girl," the creature spoke in an almost sing-song voice. Mocking.

Biting back any exhalation, Amy took one step back.

The silhouette of the stranger was lost to her in that instant. Swallowed by the night. Next to nothing made it past the distant, leafy canopy of the trees; and that little dispersed after a tiny distance. It was amazing she saw even that small outline previously.

A step on metal. Not hers; the redhead was off that now, onto the forest floor. Tentatively, she tested the ground before putting her foot down, being sure to avoid any trees, branches, anything that would make even the tiniest bit of noise.

"I know where you are," the creature's mocking tones were definitely alien. "I saw your light, and now…now, it's _so_ obvious," the alien gave what sounded like a cackle of glee.

With that, the noise of footsteps intensified. The alien. It ran over the metal: clank after clank. Three in quick succession, before the snap of branches.

Amy turned and ran, full speed from the unseen foe.

Whatever that _thing_ was, Amy reflected as she ran, it wasn't a centaur. Its voice was higher than the almost-roar of the Forest creatures, and too much like it was playing. Centaurs were often more serious; even Lellorian would have proved incapable of sounding like that, though Amy heard similar cadences running through both speakers.

Alien by the tone. An alien in Hogwarts. Somehow, she wasn't surprised: and it did explain many things. Even if not in much detail.

How else would a centaur control the Basilisk without speaking parseltongue? How else would a rocket launch from the Forest? Why else would wands be used as a power source?

Now to find out the why. And maybe find out how they controlled the Basilisk.

Her footsteps didn't slow until she again reached the castle. Panting heavily, she stepped into the entrance hall.

For a few seconds, she just stood there, straightening her hair, levelling her breathing, letting her adrenaline run its course. Then she continued, walking on, pausing a little at a mirror.  
She was sure that hadn't been there before: a grand, silver mirror on the wall.

A centaur stood behind her. She saw it on the glass. Lellorian.

He'd put a mirror there?

Moving a split-second too slowly, Amy beheld one last thing, after a smug nod from Lellorian.

A burning yellow pair of eyes glared out from the reflection.

O

"Amy!" Rory shouted, such agony resounding in his tone, "Amy!"

He fell to his knees in the entrance hall, not caring about the crowd of students around him, nor of the Doctor or the teachers which were watching with enforced, frail neutrality.

He sobbed into her jacket, her red hair.

Amy pond's body was stiff, still, unmoving. Petrified by the glare of the Basilisk. One moment she'd been standing, and the next she toppled to the floor, eyes locked wide open. For an unknown amount of time, she'd lain, unseen on the lonely stone floor of Hogwarts.

Then the fiery redhead had been found. As if dead, her petrified body was in the exact same pose as then.

Rory's tears soaked through her jacket. He couldn't save her.

As always, that fact taunted him. He could never save her, no matter how hard he tried. And so, he wept, as if his tears would free her.

"Rory," the Doctor was somehow at the man's side, kneeling, whispering comfortingly, "She's going to get better. You know that."

"Is she?" Rory's voice was muffled by his wife's clothing

"Yes," the Doctor didn't waste a single second, "And I promise you, whoever did this, they," now the Time Lord did pause for a moment, "They're not going to get away with it."

"Can you promise that?" Rory wasn't consoled. He uttered the words as much a challenge as a hope

"Yes, I can," the Doctor replied, treating it as if it were a question, "And you know why? Because now, whoever's doing this, now they've gone too far."


	9. Beneath

**Hopefully you'll like this chapter. there was a little dialogue similar to the book, but that's mostly gone due to changes in the timeline.  
The events at the end of this chapter make it longer than the others, but they were also planned to occur next chapter. So in any case, I hope you enjoy! We're near the end.  
Hopefully it won't be a disappointment. And also coming up is the bit StridersGirl89 inspired.**

In the corner of Hagrid's Hut, huddled under the invisibility cloak, Harry and Ron watched. The giant poured a cup of what was supposed to be tea, acting as if simply living his normal life, despite the newcomers.

Lucius Malfoy had arrived first; just ahead of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, and Albus Dumbledore. The blonde, Draco's father, had almost pounded the door in through force of his fist.

"Things've gone far enough," Fudge said after a moment, wincing under a glare from Lucius, "Ministry's got to act."

"I never," Hagrid looked, almost begging, at the headmaster, "Sir, you tell him, I never-"

"Stop this whining at once!" Lucius snapped, sparks unconsciously flicking from his wand; "My _son _has been kidnapped. I refuse to stand by and let this oaf pervert the course of justice."

"Yet again Lucius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," Dumbledore slowly shook his head

"Taking?" Hagrid cut in, "Take me where?"

"The only fit place for criminals such as you," Lucius was just steps from baring his teeth

"Not…not Azkaban," the giant stuttered

"Again, I must say there is no reason for this," Dumbledore was not speaking with anger. The best emotion to describe his tone was one of shame.

"Excuse me headmaster," Fudge spoke, "But was Hagrid not the student previously expelled, when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened?"

Dumbledore slowly, reluctantly nodded.

"And were the attacks not halted?"

Again, the headmaster reluctantly nodded. Hagrid stared despairingly.

"Then I see no reason not to proceed," Fudge nodded sharply, "I have with me the full support of-"

"Justice must be served," Lucius interrupted again.

Harry and Ron shared a look beneath the cloak, surprised by the vehemence in the tone of Draco's father.

"Now, now Lucius," Dumbledore briefly closed his eyes, "You must know this serves no purpose."

"No purpose?" came the spluttered response: "My son has been stolen from under your pitiful noses. I _demand _someone be punished!" Lucius was shouting

"Lucius," Dumbledore said again, surprisingly good-natured, "I believe-"

"Albus," a quiet fury simmered behind the blonde's voice, "I think you will find your words no longer have any meaning here."

The blaze in Malfoy's eyes mimicked the fire in Dumbledore's. Keeping that burning gaze on the headmaster, he withdrew a long scroll, taking great, mocking pleasure in the action.

"I have here an Order of Suspension: the governors feel it is time for you to step aside. You'll find all twelve-"

"Just one minute," Hagrid interjected with the force of a blow, "You can't take Dumbledore! If you do that, they'll- they'll be killin's next!"

"Calm yourself Hagrid," Dumbledore's voice was more mild-mannered than either Harry or Ron would have believed, even knowing how calm the headmaster normally acted, "If the governors wish my removal, I will of course step aside-"

"Ahem, Albus," Cornelius Fudge surprisingly spoke up, timid in comparison to the others, "I assure you, there is no need for-"

"There is," Lucius insisted with a shout before, as an afterthought, adding: "Minister."

In some ways, the Minister of Magic was quite unimpressive, especially when compared to the other people there: Hagrid's huge frame held violent bravery, Lucius was strengthened by his rage, and Dumbledore seemed to draw upon a silent, inner courage.

It was immediately visible to the two watching students. And yet, somehow Lucius held all the power in the room, commanding even Dumbledore and the Minister.

"The governors, in the end, have the greatest say in who runs Hogwarts," Lucius' tone was close to calm now, with the threat of anger erupting lurking just below the surface. "If they wish Albus to step aside, well then, he must step aside."

Framed by pale hair, Lucius glared with undisguised venom at Dumbledore.

Hagrid sagged.

"If the governors wish it, I shall of course comply," somehow, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "But let me say this. I am not so easily taken from Hogwarts. I shall only truly have left this school when there are none here who are loyal to me. You will also find, help will always be given to those who ask for it."

"I'm sure," Lucius gave a mocking sneer. He grabbed Dumbledore by the sleeve of his robe, and gave a savage tug.

"_Justice_," the blonde hissed.

With his chosen victim, the target of his blame, Lucius Malfoy took the headmaster of Hogwarts away from the imperilled castle.

With that, only four more were in the cabin. Harry and Ron beneath the invisibility cloak, and Fudge, a little nervous beside the huge Hagrid.

A small trail of spiders wandered along the side of the hut.

The huge giant looked at them for a moment, before looking up in the general direction of Harry and Ron: "Oh, an' if anyone wanted to find out about some stuff, all they'd have to do would be to follow the spiders. That'll lead `em right." Hagrid nodded.

Fudge looked at him, somewhere between confused and worried. Then the Minister hurried the giant out of his own hut.

"That's all I'm saying," Hagrid muttered, before creasing his brow: "Oh, and someone's gonna have to feed Fang."

The black dog perked up at the mention of his name; he gave a low, melancholy howl as Hagrid was lead away.

And with that, anyone to look into the hut would see it empty. Minutes passed.

Ron flung the cloak off, sighing. "Bloody mental, this is."

O

It had been several weeks since the flare of light from the Forest.

Not once had it left the Doctor's thoughts. He instinctively felt as if he were missing something, but what, he could not recall. It was something obvious, right in front of his eyes…

The Time Lord was sitting in Dumbledore's normal chair. No one came up to this office now: it had scarcely been an hour, and yet news of the headmaster's departure had spread. Throw a stone into a pond, and see the ripples…

Amy was in the Hospital Wing, with all the other petrified victims. There were still one or two attacks a week, but somehow they'd calmed down. Especially since the flare. As if appeased.

If it could be said, the Doctor missed Dumbledore. In his long life, the Time Lord had known much sorrow. It dizzied him looking back: in 'recent' days, he'd lost so many. Rory once, the Master even, Adelaide Brooke, Donna, the nameless woman on Midnight, River, Jenny, Joan Redfern, Astrid, Reinette and Rose. Their faces and names echoed in his mind, among so many others.

Going back further, he'd lost his species, lost Susan, Adric…

He didn't want to think about it any more.

He felt close to Dumbledore: enough so that the headmaster deserved a place on that list. Along with the petrified Amy.

They'd gone too far.

Whoever 'they' were.

For all his resistance however, the Doctor knew it would eventually prove futile. Dumbledore would die in just four years' time.

Unstoppable.

"But not yet," the Doctor muttered to himself, standing up with those words.

The speech, the very idea filled him with energy. Not yet. Not just yet.

He stepped out, ready to leave the room, hand unconsciously flailing at empty air. He frowned, pausing a moment to remember why he performed that action.

_I find myself unable to find one of my possessions._

Dumbledore's words echoed in his head. Of course!

Harry had said Lellorian was planning to steal something: and he was definitely being honest, according to Dumbledore. Maybe the centaur had received it; hence the loss. And maybe that also explained the rocket, and the hand…

The hand was the right size. And the rocket…

Flashes of the frozen future he'd seen rushed back to the Doctor.

"No…" the word escaped his startled lips.

"Doctor?" Rory stepped out of the TARDIS, blinking, only just having woken up

"I think I've figured it out," the Time Lord didn't turn, appalled.

Rory blinked; "What?" he spoke, urgent

"The Deluminator," the Doctor said after a moment. "It's not here, but it was _always_ here, just there," his hand gestured aimlessly, "Dumbledore said he lost it, and then a rocket flew up, quite possibly with a hand the perfect size to flick it."

"A rocket and a Deluminator?" Rory queried

"Exactly," the Doctor closed his eyes for the moment. "Remember the future we saw? Cold and dark. No moon. No Sun."

A pause.

"Oh my god…" Rory's voice trailed off.

"Exactly," the Doctor said again, "Whoever this is, _they're turning off the Sun_."

O

Harry and Ron had followed the spiders. And then, quite quickly, they had come to regret it; especially now, standing beneath the quivering mandibles of Aragog. The huge ruler of the swarm.

"Creatures wander abound in our Forest," the low whisper of the great spider sounded around the webbed hollow, "Friends of Hagrid may you be, but you are meat. My children starve, especially with the interference of the abomination."

"Abomination?" Harry asked, curious.

It seemed only the Boy Who Lived was able to speak: Ron was simply squeaking, afraid of the spiders.

"You still seek answers?" Aragog hissed, "We speak of that which killed our mortal foe, and resides even now in the guise of a forest dweller. Three such beings in the Forest."

"Forest dweller?" Harry frowned, casting his mind back.

He'd come into the Forest for a little time, a detention, in his First year. He'd met one species then, of 'forest dwellers'. Centaurs.

"You mean Lellorian?" Harry murmured.

Ron frowned, partly incredulous, partly lost, by Harry's use of the name.

"We know not what humans know him as," Aragog spoke, "Only that he does not belong."

"But-"

"Enough!" the spider boomed, "I have giving you more answers than you deserve."

That was true, Harry had to admit. They knew of the student who died the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, died in a bathroom. And they knew it was not Hagrid's fault.

"Ok, well," Harry stuttered, "We'll just be going."

"I think not!" the Aragog boomed, "I have said: be you friends of Hagrid or not, you are fresh meat. I cannot deny my children that."

Harry backed away, tense, gripping his wand and moving closer to Ron as the eight legged creatures around them swarmed. Ducking beneath webs, and striking them aside, the creatures closed in.

Harry shouted a curse, a flash of light shooting from his wand; one of the many spiders fell back. Still more grey bodies scuttled forwards, some coming as high as Harry's waist, less than a metre away. Still, the black haired boy shouted magic, in a vain hope of repelling the creatures.

Suddenly, the noise of a car revving broke the scampering rustle of the clearing.

The spiders froze for a split second; even Harry did, forgetting to shoot any more hexes.

Two white lights shone over the clearing. And then, with another rev, the source of the lights descended into the clearing, as noisily as it possible could.

The spiders scuttled back a little way, mostly out of shock from seeing such a thing in the Forest. It was bright blue; the colour came into focus as it neared. And it was…

"Harry!" Ron gasped, finding his voice again now the spiders had distanced themselves, "It's dad's car!"

So it was; the flying car they'd taken to Hogwarts, which had fled from them. It had been in the Forest all this time, growing wilder, outer metal dented, and several windows smashed.

The car's doors opened automatically. If it were able, the students had no doubt it would be gesturing for them to get in. Understandably hurried, Ron and Harry did so, Ron getting in the driving seat even though he kept his distance from the wheel.

Harry shouted another curse out the window, repelling a spider with one more flash.

Then, rapidly, the car shot away, weaving through trees, whipping branches, through the Forest. It never stopped for several minutes; intent on outrunning the swarm. Occasionally, Harry was forced to unleash a curse, pushing another eight-legged being away.

Still, after several minutes, the car had escaped.

It slowed gradually, in an area neither Ron nor Harry had seen before. It was a patch of the forest built by artificial means, and not the normal, chaotic thicket housing unknown wonders and fears they'd come to expect from the rest of the Forest.

Tentatively, they stepped out of the vehicle, footsteps clinking on the metal floor. They looked around, at what appeared to be three beds, a podium… It was almost a dwelling place, surviving only on the barest essentials.

"Ha!" the noise was like a war cry. A violent shout of exertion; followed by the noises of hooves, and the painful sound of crushed metal and glass.

The students turned, to see the face of Lellorian, contorted with fury, galloping straight over the car, hands outstretched. Lethal nails reached out.

"_Everte Statum_!" Harry shouted, resignedly watching the spell easily dissipate over Lellorian's wild frame.

The centaur looked from side to side for a moment, at both Harry and Ron. His upper body somehow seemed uncared for, ignored; the gash that ran down from his shoulder was unhealed from weeks before, and if anything, it had become worse, gradually tearing down until it passed his ribs. It was bound together by a crude gum of vines and leaves.

"I have been too patient with you, boy!" Lellorian rumbled, slowly stepping towards Harry. "It is time I rectify that error."

Harry shouted another curse, the one he'd used on the spiders; it struck the centaur, and yet the light simply sputtered out.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, aimlessly, worried, crying out the word.

Two curses were flung at Lellorian; both useless, fading away. The centaur burst into a gallop, quickly closing the tiny distance between he and Harry, nails gouging forwards, scraping for the boy's neck.

"Potter!" the voice was shouted across the clearing.

It was a male one; it bore a certain sense of maturity, thoughtfulness, respectability, and kindness. And yet there was also the unavoidable undertone on the Forest: the untameable, distinctly present.

Another centaur crashed into Lellorian, pushing the wounded creature away. Lellorian looked up and snarled at the newcomer.

Unbridled savagery followed; blows struck with hands and hooves, snarls, bites, charges, centaur ramming centaur, hooves stamping on hooves, arms locked. The wildness of the Forest personified for those few seconds-

And then the newcomer recoiled for a few seconds, recoiling from a sharp blow. And then, lightning fast, gaining one lucky sideways blow against Lellorian; his hand gripped the chest of the centaur. With an aggressive wrench, the new centaur pulled away.

The flesh was ripped from Lellorian's torso.

No blood came out; no gore or bone or muscle visible. Just green, leathery skin. Below the outer flesh.

With a shout, the newcomer again charged towards Lellorian: the false centaur. Hands reached forwards, ignoring Lellorian's yowls, the close combatants again pulling apart; the newcomer held a grip on Lellorian's hair.

Pulling once more, the face came off the creature, so that the centaur's lower body, that of the horse, was there, perfect. But above that, green flesh resided; topped by a rounded green head, with round, black eyes. Eyelids blinked sideways along those great orbs.

"I dislike this," the newcomer spoke solely to themselves, before delivering one powerful blow against the green, alien head.

Lellorian crumpled to the floor, centaur body mangled and torn like the suit it was used as; and the green alien underneath was still, head at an unnatural angle, from the real centaur's blow.

"Do not fear," he again turned, now to face Harry and Ron,

The black haired boy gave a small gasp, noticing a few familiar features: "Firenze?"

"Yes," the centaur bowed his head; identifying himself as the creature Harry encountered in his First Year, in the Forest, "This creature has wandered for too long. The centaurs were in unrest, and I chose to help."

A few seconds ticked past, the students looked up at the friendly features of Firenze; features twisted ever so slightly from guilt and pain. As if he'd received every blow dealt to Lellorian. Such regret: his words were true. He disliked the need to harm.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron let the words fall from his lips in a sudden gush.

"A stranger to the Forest," Firenze nodded, bowing his head slightly to the student, "We have scented three. One resides in the Forest, though they have departed, and one is elsewhere. It was just he," Firenze gestured to the still alien, "who remained. He stole the skin and wore it as his own."


	10. The Final Boundary

**Well, we're nearing the end. A slightly longer chapter this time, but I don't think it's my best. Recovering from an illness still, but hopefully you'll still enjoy yourself. **

"No use looking at me like that," the Doctor muttered to Fawkes; unsettled by the phoenix's unblinking gaze.

A crimson, spectacular wing was lifted, brushing a speck of soot from the glorious streak of feathers over the mythical bird's head.

"Stop staring at me!" the Doctor suddenly let out the almost-shout, rolling his eyes as Fawkes continued to watch. "I can't do anything at the moment."

The phoenix kept watching the Doctor, hopping out from its perch. Gracefully, it flew around the room, before landing, this time atop the TARDIS. Solemn orbs peered out, over its beak, at the Time Lord.

"I know," the Doctor sighed, "But I don't know where their ship is. But if they haven't gotten to the Sun yet, they must only be using what they could find on Earth to build a ship, and not the remains of their old one. So there are a few weeks until they reach the Sun: and anyway, the astronomy students and teachers are looking for it."

The Doctor panted a little after the quick rant, before slumping back. Fawkes continued to stare.

The Time Lord rolled his eyes, turning away from the firebird. A few seconds passed; with vivid plumage, Fawkes gently crooned, tilting his crimson head. One sparkling tear fell from his round eye, rolling down the roof of the TARDIS. Light flashes from the bulb; a brief pulse.

"You really want me to help, huh?" the Doctor turned around at that illumination, "Alright, I'll see what I can do; but I'm still waiting to learn where the ship is. Once I find that, well, I'll get up there; take the Deluminator."

Shrugging, the Doctor stood, to leave the Forest.

O

The room was black; and it was barely a room.

No light penetrated this far below the grand castle of Hogwarts. Just a distant, flickering, fiery torch provided illumination and sight; and yet Draco Malfoy wished the boon of sight had not been granted.

His hands were tied tightly around a wooden post erected in the damp back of the Chamber of Secrets; he was imprisoned behind the stone face of Salazar Slytherin, the place which was normally reserved for just the Basilisk.

Crisp, white snakeskin formed a ring around him; shed long ago, little more than a ghost of the wet, slithering serpent.

The rustle of the Basilisk incessantly moved in the background.

Distaste and fear was obvious on Draco's face; he kicked away the bones gathering beneath his body, tried to keep himself out of the puddles on the floor, backed away from rats and the shed flesh of the Basilisk.

"How long do you think it will be?" the voice was not the Basilisk's; it was more ordered than the creature's cry, and yet there was a strong feeling of something snakelike in the voice; a deep, hissing tone, a slight lisp…

"Until what?" Draco shouted out, a little scared, resisting

"Until we reach our aim, of course!" the serpentine voice gave a choking series of laughs

"Where's that?" Draco shouted into the darkness around him.

"Pitiful," the stranger despaired, "You know nothing. No matter; it will soon be over."

Draco looked around in the darkness, afraid. If he saw the glowing eyes of the creature, his life would be stolen from him; and yet he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes.

A blue glow emanated from behind him. The blonde struggled against his restraints, trying to look back, but in the end failing. Only the edges of a blue light greeted his eyes.

As the buzzing light continued to shine, Malfoy attempted to look around. With the extra illumination, a little more was visible; a crate was concealed inside the snakeskin, bearing the name 'Ollivander's'.

Wands. Draco could do with those; his had been stolen by Lellorian. But if he could get one of those… even if it hadn't chosen him, he'd still be able to perform a spell, however feeble.

The Slytherin stretched out, feet just crinkling the shed skin. Not quite far enough. He strained again; pulling forwards, trying to snap the post as much as anything.

The azure light faded.

A split second, Draco was pressed backwards, head against the post, and a long, ivory claw-like finger on his throat.

"It feels good to be out of there," the voice bore the same basic sound as the serpentine voice, only no longer hissing; "Remember child, you are at _my _mercy. Now, be safe," the creature gave a mocking snarl. Draco flinched.

Still laughing, the creature stepped past Draco; he saw its back, green, leathery flesh, with long claws coming from each hand.

Now afraid of the being, Draco struggled harder, reaching out, splashing in the water, fear of those piercing claws ringing in his mind. After quite some effort, he pressed into the snakeskin, and brushed one of the spare wands, leftover by the aliens, with his foot.

From there, it became easier; constantly rubbing it, Draco rolled the wand closer, eventually to the post, where he gripped it tightly with his hand.

He wasn't ready to give up and be a prisoner yet. Grinning, he aimed the wand back along his wrist, towards the primitive rope binding his wrists.

"_Incendio._"

A flicker of flame later, and Draco was standing up, brushing himself down, ready to leave the Chamber.

Dumbledore's Office would be as good a target as any; speak to the headmaster, tell him about everything that had happened.

Draco set off at a run.

O

"Now, Rory," the Doctor barrelled out of a corridor, making the human stumble; "I've got an important job for you."  
"What now?" Rory's voice still bore traces of sadness, stemming from the paralysis of his wife.

"It's Harry," the Doctor paused, "Myrtle's been petrified, and someone needs to show him the way into the Chamber. I'd go, you know how I love travelling, but Fawkes is staring at me, and you never want to upset a phoenix."

Rory just frowned.

"Oh, you never read the books," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Disgraceful. You know, I did give them to you for a reason."

"I know, they got lost in the TARDIS," an irked Rory interrupted

"Oh yeah," the Doctor grinned, "Too bad."

O

The Doctor wandered through the fringes of the Forbidden Forest; curious, impatient.

Somewhere in the sky, a ship was nearing the end of a long journey to fly to the Sun, using only speeds achieved via Earth technology and material only. Somewhere; as yet, unseen by the methodically searching astronomy students.

He'd reached the metallic lab constructed by the unknown aliens; a haven of technology in the wild Forest. Already, since the launch of the rocket, the signs of disuse and aging had spread. Thin sheets of rust had become visible on the ground, a lot of the technology had simply been strewn over the floor, and much was damaged, as if by impact. Ivy grew over it, unimpeded now by the bursts of fire; and many of the trees around had fallen inwards, collapsing over the lab, ashen from the flame of the launch.

In the centre of the plain metal, a shadow was cast; an ungainly lump.

The Doctor ran up to it, frowning, before recoiling suddenly; it was almost a centaur. Almost.

The rough body of a centaur lay there; the muscled torso, the shaggy horse's body, the strong hooves and legs… But it was scratched, torn, pecked at by the wild birds of the Forest, and possibly more.

A large gash ran down his chest; exposing something else beneath. And instead of a centaur's fierce features, there was ripped flesh, and a very different face; green, pudgy, with round, staring yellow eyes. Lightly drawn inwards, sideways eyelids covered the black orbs. When his gaze wandered down, over the horse's body, little pecks of the skin-suit were taken away; revealing little holes, little triangles pulled away: more green, alien skin beneath.

The Time Lord looked up, suddenly suspicious. Now things were falling into place.

An alien ship had crash-landed, hopefully for once, a genuine crash. From there, its occupants, three survivors judging by the beds, had looked around, finding their own way on continuing. Of escaping. They'd landed near Hogwarts; and so it seemed, their plan was not to fly at an incredibly low speed, but to take enough energy to power the mostly-repaired ship. Hence the Deluminator: hence the Sun.

And he knew who these aliens were. He knew that they most likely wouldn't simply power the ship; they'd sell the excess power, uncaring as to the six billion lives it would cost.

Resolute, the Time Lord began his journey back to the castle. He crossed, past the lifeless centaur-

-and stopped.

Two people were tied up to a tree; tied up by simple rope, presumably to a lack of any more scientifically advanced restraint.

Albus Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy.

"Ah, finally, a person," Draco's father snapped out, "You! Free us."

"Oh, alright," the Doctor rolled his eyes, pacing up to the tree, "It was a bit careless getting captured in the first place actually. You're supposed to be going to the Ministry. Oh well," the Doctor shrugged, stepping up to the tree. He stood there for a few seconds, watching the rope.

"Well?" Lucius demanded

"Back in one sec," the Time Lord grinned, lifting a flashing green wand.

A few more minutes passed; he wandered back through the alien base, leaving Lucius and Dumbledore tied to the tree. The blonde rolled his eyes, while the headmaster simply waited patiently.

"I'm back!" the Time Lord popped around another tree, approaching the duo closer. "And I've got these," he grinned, displaying a pair of wands he'd found, both belonging to Dumbledore and Lucius: confiscated when they'd been taken here.

"Very good," Lucius admitted reluctantly, "Now give it to me, so that I may be free and fulfil my task."

The Doctor lowered his arm. "No."

"Excuse me?" Lucius glared

"I said no. Not until you listen; did you ever wonder why you were tied here, like this? My guess is a centaur, or a strange, green creature you'd never seen before, took you here; restrained you. Wondered why?"

The Doctor paused for breath.

"Well I'll tell you," the Time Lord spoke in little more than a whisper, yet it bore the energy as if he'd shouted it, "What do you think of your house-elf? Don't answer that, I don't think I could take it. But that green creature? It sees you just like you see Dobby. How doe sit feel to be on the receiving end of that kind of indifference, Lucius?"

"I do not see what relevance this bears on the current situation," the man's frosty replied made the Doctor paused

"No, no. Maybe you don't. I'll tell you something though: I'm not giving you your wand, until you promise me too things."

"And what would those be?" Lucius sighed, irritated

"Let Albus go; let him go back to Hogwarts right now. I'll need his help for what's to come."  
Absolutely not," Malfoy said coldly, turning away.

"Too bad," the Doctor shrugged, tossing a wand to Dumbledore, but keeping Lucius's. The headmaster freed himself with a quick spell, before looking strangely at the Doctor. The Time Lord winked, before turning and beginning to walk away.

A few seconds of pacing passed.

"Very well!" Lucius shouted, half-snarling, after them. "I will give the headmaster a _temporary _reprieve for these…extreme circumstances."

"Good," the Doctor walked stiffly back to the tree, giving the wand to the man.

"And the second condition?" Malfoy spoke, resigned, as he freed himself.

The Doctor glared for a moment.

"Get me a fez," the Time lord's voice was very serious.

Lucius Malfoy stared, disbelieving for a moment, at the Time Lord. Then, rolling his eyes, he waved his reclaimed wand and muttered a quick incantation. A red fez popped out of the air, landing in the Doctor's hands.

"Thanks," the Time Lord quickly grinned, before pausing; he quickly moved back to Dumbledore. "Hey, Albus," he said.

"Yes Doctor?" the headmaster spoke slowly, thinking over the Doctor's actions while conversing.

"What do you put on your chips?"

Lucius almost spat upon hearing the question, though he stayed silent, listening to the discussion between Dumbledore and the Doctor: there was something about the brown-haired man, something unnerving. Nonetheless, Dumbledore seemed just as confused.

"Why?" the headmaster spoke

"Do you use magic or just collect stuff? Do you, say, use vinegar from your wands?" the Doctor spoke quickly, urgently.

"We do," Dumbledore nodded, frowning, "When we so desire vinegar."

"Great!" the Doctor grinned.

"Is this really important?" Lucius strode between them, annoyed.

"Yes, actually," the Doctor pouted, "Look over there."

Lucius turned his head, facing the direction the Time Lord pointed. Lellorian lay there, still, lifeless, green flesh within visible.

"What is that?" Lucius muttered distastefully.

"They call themselves Slitheen," the Doctor relished the word, before pausing; "Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"They're a species of living calcium, from Raxacoricofallapatorius: they hide in skin, like that. But they must've been desperate this time, going for centaur bodies. Not enough legs to do it properly." The Doctor sighed

"What are you talking about?" Lucius spoke with pure, undisguised venom

"Mermaids," the Doctor replied, "Not the kind you have in your lakes; the old, carnival kind. I've seen them do it before: only with a pig. They blended two species together, looks like they did a similar thing, only with their hosts. Can't be easy. Or pleasant."

Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Doctor," Dumbledore took the break as a chance to speak; "Why do you think these Slitheen took us?"

"They were afraid," the Doctor spoke simply. "They didn't want any more people coming. You can magic up vinegar, that worries them."

"Vinegar," Lucius sounded not at all amused.

"Living calcium," the Doctor reminded him; "Try it. Over there."

The Time Lord didn't turn around; simply pacing forwards with Dumbledore. Lucius glared at the Doctor, before muttering a quick spell and sending a stream of vinegar through the air.

The thin layer of liquid splattered and landed on the exposed, round, green leather head of the Slitheen within Lellorian. A fizzing of a violent reaction sounded; vinegar touching the calcium of a Slitheen.

O

Rory Pond sat on the toilet seat, sighing, bored as much as anything. The Doctor's orders; he smiled to himself for a moment at the phrase.

Myrtle was no longer there; so he was the guide. When Harry and Ron started on their journey, he'd point them to the sink. Until then…wait.

Eventually, there was a clattering outside, and three stumbled into the bathroom: Lockhart, held at wand-point by Harry and Ron. The teacher stumbled forwards, turning around madly, before locking eyes on Rory.

"Ah, hello!" he attempted to give a winning smile, failing miserably, "Could I trouble you to help? There's been a bit of a misunderstanding."

"Can it Lockhart," Ron muttered. The teacher frowned, eyes darting around.

Gilderoy looked pleadingly at Rory.

"You wanted to talk to Myrtle?" Mr Pond said, ignoring the floundering teacher.

"Y-yeah," Harry nodded, insecure by the unexpected knowledge: it reminded him too much of Lellorian.

"She's not here; got petrified by the Basilisk," Rory sighed, reciting the phrase, not watching the surprised glances of the trio.

"Well, that looks like all we can do," Lockhart shrugged, turning-

"I can still help," Rory shouted, making the teacher halt. "Go to the sink."

O

They'd found it.

The Doctor grinned broadly, pacing through Dumbledore's Office: the astronomy students had found a speck of light in space, moving incredibly quickly towards the Sun. The Slitheen ship, constructed on Earth.

Aboard it was, presumably, the Deluminator.

"You have found out then?" Dumbledore spoke, standing beside the TARDIS, just next to the resolute blue box.

"Yep, they're pretty close," the Doctor swung the TARDIS door open hopping inside. A few seconds later, a voice carried out; "Do you want to come along? We're heading straight to the ship."

Smiling, the Albus Dumbledore walked into the blue box. A few slow seconds passed, before the door closed, a soft moaning sounded, resounding through the stone walls, an immeasurably ancient groaning as the TARDIS faded away.


	11. The Dying Of the Light

**This chapter is a...lot longer than the others, but hopefully it's worth it.  
This is the finale! The characterizations get a little better towards the end, but in any case, enjoy! A little action for those who like that, tension for fans of that, and moments which I, at least, think are fairly emotional.  
Oh, and Rory gets his moment.  
Hee, anyway, the crossover set in Year 3 is confirmed: it will be called Darkness. keep an eye out!  
Anyway, enjoy! **

"You're not meant to be here," the Doctor said suddenly, peering out from under the fez Lucius had spelled into existence.

Dumbledore looked through the time machine, towards where the Doctor also faced. Against the brilliant gold walls, a streak of crimson was visible. Fawkes, the phoenix.

"You're supposed to be in the Chamber," the Doctor said in a haunted whisper; "How are you supposed to save Harry's life, when you're here?"

The phoenix turned a huge, round eye towards the Doctor, unblinking. A pale claw reached down the metallic console, twisting a dial before the Doctor could reach him.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "That's just cheating. You do realize that jammed the circuits? Come on, you're a bird, not a me- wait, are you? I wonder, does it count as regeneration?" the Time Lord paused in thought, more interested in the philosophical idea of phoenixes regenerating by flame, than in the matter at hand.

Quietly awed, Albus Dumbledore walked around the outside of the interior of the grand TARDIS. Bronze and gold lights shone onto him, accentuating his argent hair.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" the Doctor hopped up behind the headmaster

"Truly," Dumbledore murmured, "Such a design, unlike the outside."

"Oy!" the Doctor pouted, "What's wrong with the police box?"

"It is not as…" Dumbledore paused, "charming."

"I could take you back there right now!" the Doctor seemed irritated for a moment, before frowning, "Actually I couldn't. Fawkes saw to that. It won't let me go back to the last place I landed. Did you tell him to do that?" the Doctor peered sideways, frowning.

"A phoenix is a truly wise creature," Albus replied, enigmatic.

Rolling his eyes, the Time Lord gave up with the conversation. Instead, he fiddled up and down the console, flying through the time vortex and attempting to become more specific with the landing coordinates.

Fawkes flew up from his perch, circling the time rotor, slowly ascending, and then again descending to a roundel on the side wall. Looking around with black orbs, the phoenix swooped beneath the glass floor, crimson feathers bringing a dash more spectacular colour to the time machine.

Seconds later, he darted up, turning around near the door, and landing on a metal staircase. He looked around, turning his fiery plumage to survey the box.

"We're here," the Doctor's voice sounded, chiming darkly. It seemed almost to crack with pressure; as if passing a sentence rather than stating a travel destination. "Had to flick the blue boring-ers. The noise might be distracting."

The ship was crude, no doubt about it. Grey and brown and black; charred, dirty metal, with splotches of sanitized silver from a real star-ship, the Slitheen craft which took them to Earth. Added together, the craft was even uglier; the tarnished earthly metals, and alien technology unnaturally forced together.

Though practicality was the aim; not sleekness.

It was not decorated at all. The ship was no more than a dirty tube; the TARDIS at one end, with the engines salvaged from the Slitheen ship just behind it. A little heat could be felt through the wall.

Opposite it, a chair, and an intricate wall, full of arrays of buttons and levers. One button shot out a pod; one holding both the Deluminator, and the hand. Others were boxes of food and entertainment, most used up on the long journey to the Sun.

On the floor, just past half way, there was a thick pane of glass. Through it, visible past all the security shields and lenses, was a huge flaming ball of gas, growing gradually closer. The Sun. Its heat could almost be felt.

On the far end of the ship, as far from the TARDIS as anything could be, there was another clear strip; either plastic or glass, tinted, hiding any harmful radiation or light. The Sun was visible there also.

So close.

And sitting on the chair, turned away from the TARDIS, and the opposite end of the craft to the time machine, there was a Slitheen. Claws hung loosely to its sides, visibly scraping the primitive, cannibalized walls. And it just stared forwards, absent-minded, half-asleep from the long journey.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, door creaking. Suddenly awake, the Slitheen turned.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor" he grinned, stepping sideways to let Dumbledore out.

The green alien opposite them stood up, neck bent so as to not hit the ceiling. It lifted one ungainly arm, pointing half-threateningly towards them.

"We need to talk," the Time Lord's expression turned seriously

"How did you get aboard?" the Slitheen said with a frustrated curiosity

"TARDIS," he beamed, tapping the blue box, "Quite handy. But that's not the point; I could talk about her if you want though. Should I talk about her? I could go on a while," he looked sideways at Dumbledore, "Best not. So, you and the Sun?"

"It is necessary," the alien spoke.

No one moved; keeping the same distance apart, tense, watchful. Dumbledore, Slitheen and Doctor.

"Our ship crashed," the Slitheen spoke, "We require power. This will work: and we will also gain profit."

"What, by turning off the Sun with a Deluminator?" the Doctor rolled his eyes, "That's got to be the worst business move ever. And for _profit_?"

"It is necessary," the Slitheen repeated, blinking.

A quiet few seconds passed. A beep from the console behind it. Quickly, the Slitheen raised its other arm, backwards now, towards a button-

"Stop," the Doctor's word ended the movement. He lifted his sonic screwdriver; still transfigured to look like a wand. "I can help," the Time Lord spoke, "Just let me. My TARDIS: I can take you, your friend, to wherever. A second chance. What do you say?"

The Doctor and the Slitheen glared at each other. Not blinking. Not stopping; a battle of wills as much as anything. Never stopping, never faltering, never giving in.

"No," the Slitheen said, quite simply, resolutely. And jabbed a claw back, pressing the button.

A whoosh of steam, as the small spherical pod was flung away; Deluminator inside.

They could see the ball on the screen behind the Slitheen; some kind of composite, like glass, only with a much greater melting point. Transparent.

Inside it, the robotic hand was fixed to a small podium. It held the Deluminator in a loose grip; thumb just on the top. The heat of the Sun around it rose; the hand tensed, ready to flick, ready to absorb all the light of the star.

"No, no, no," the Doctor babbled, running across the rocket, ignoring the Slitheen.

The alien stumbled out of the way, past Dumbledore also as the Time Lord and headmaster fiddled with the console.

"There has to be some way," the Doctor was muttering, "Reclaim the Deluminator. Just like how they did something to survive without the heat of the Sun: using the Deluminator? No, that's no good. Hopefully they did it a different way," he was flicking switches like mad.

"Goodbye Doctor," the Slitheen's voice came from the other side of the passage.

The Doctor and Dumbledore turned, to see a lever, just next to the still-open TARDIS gripped by a claw. The alien yanked it down.

There was a hiss of air escaping; a crack appeared in the roof, walls and floor of the rocket.

"So that's how they were going to grab it," the Doctor grinned to himself at the revelation, before pausing. "Ah."

"_Protego!_" Albus Dumbledore boomed, raising a shield along the crack around the ship.

With little fanfare, the rocket split in to two separate segments; one, with the Doctor, Dumbledore and the controls in, the other with the Slitheen and TARDIS in, with an automated force-field.

If things had gone to plan, this would have been the method of collecting the Deluminator: raise the force-field on the other side, and steer the half through the space, empty without any star, until picking up the Deluminator. Hopefully life support would work for that long; and then the little device would supply plenty of heat for the voyage back to Earth.

The Slitheen had transformed the procedure into a trap. He cut the Doctor and Dumbledore off from their TARDIS, and almost exposed them to vacuum; saved only by Dumbledore's spell.

Still, the alien was happy. It'd left them there: and now it had an escape. The blue box the Doctor had arrived in.

Smug, the Slitheen moved to enter the TARDIS, pushing the ajar door further open-

And being struck in the face by a bright, twirling bird, brilliantly glowing feathers seeming at home this close to the Sun.

Fawkes.

Without breaking the glide, the phoenix shut the TARDIS door with tail feathers, and darted straight past the alien. Past the force-field, for it was only meant to keep air in.

And into space.

The Doctor and Dumbledore watched, awed by the graceful, unimpeded flight of the phoenix.

Supported by innate magic, Fawkes easily navigated the vacuum, drifting as much as soaring, pulled inexorably towards the Sun by its immense gravity.

The wings of the phoenix started to flicker with flame, smouldering as it neared the star. And still, Fawkes drew closer.

"That's an amazing bird," the Doctor remarked conversationally to Dumbledore.

"Thank you Doctor," the headmaster bowed his head, "I completely agree."

Seconds of silence, Fawkes disappearing into the Sun's corona.

Then, a moment of beauty which staggered even the Doctor.

Wearing a halo of flame, Fawkes rose from the Sun, wings fully ablaze. He'd grown several centimetres, alight, giving off no smoke; just the fire of the Sun. And gripped in his paws was the Deluminator, sealed shut by one talon, rescued from the grip of the mechanical hand.

The flaming phoenix dimmed as he neared the shuttle; becoming the still-brilliant shades of gold and crimson, as he normally was, by the time he dropped the boiling Deluminator onto the floor of that half of the ship.

"Nice one, birdie," the Doctor grinned, moving to scratch the phoenix's head. Several seconds later, he recoiled; the feathers still retained much heat.

Fawkes chirped, looking at both of them.

Despite the joy of saving the Earth, they still had a heaviness in their heart. For, because of the Slitheen, they were nowhere near the TARDIS: a gulf of empty space, close to the flaming Sun, to cross.

O

"Bee in your bonnet, Draco," the Sorting Hat spoke.

"I came to talk to whoever's the headmaster here, not to you," the blonde retorted.

That was mostly true; he'd come from his risky escape from the Chamber of Secrets, straight here, to warn them of the Basilisk and other, green creature. And Lellorian.

The Doctor seemed like the best choice. Draco was hardly a fan of his, but he did seem to be the most interested in the centaur and other issues. Plus the Time Lord was supposed to be here. And as a Slytherin with connections, he found it easy to acquire the password to this Office: he had done quite a while ago, just in case.

"I am afraid you may be waiting a while," the Hat said dryly; "the Doctor has left. He is quite far from here. The nearest you may wish to talk to is Rory Pond, but he is heading for the Chamber of Secrets."

"The Chamber?" Draco suddenly span around.

The Hat inclined its point, in an approximation of a nod.

O

"I don't think I can do this," Harry muttered.

Ahead of him, Rory turned; they were walking over the bones and shed skin near the entrance to the chamber. It was not a good time to be having second thoughts.

Then again, Rory had almost forgotten he was just a schoolboy: Harry wasn't like Rory, used to travel, and facing exotic monsters. He was a child. Guilty, distracted, Rory stopped, turning to look at Harry.

"Don't worry about it, `k?" Mr Pond mumbled.

"I could try," Harry murmured, "Don't know how well it'd work. I'm…" he paused, "Scared."

"Don't be," Rory said, urgently.

The Doctor had given him a quick summary of this part of the plot: Harry to slay the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor, taken from the Sorting Hat. But he needed courage, he needed to be brave to pull out the Sword.

Fear, while in any other case was expected, even encouraged, here it would doom them.

"You dealt with Voldemort," Rory said. Harry seemed a little surprised by Rory's casual use of the name. "Twice," he continued, "This is nothing."

Just then, Gilderoy Lockhart stumbled over a rat's skull. Irritated, Ron moved to help him up-

And the teacher snatched the wand away from the redhead, taking a few steps away from the students. "The adventure ends here, boys," he looked around, semi-wildly, waving Ron's taped-together wand.

Rory rolled his eyes. The Doctor just had to skim over this bit of the book, didn't he? Lockhart's betrayal. Great. What to do…

"I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school," he waved his free hand at the husk around them, "Tell them that I was too late to save the girl, and that you two so tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangles body. Say goodbye to your memories, boys!"

He raised the wand above his head, and brought it down with a thunderous shout.

At the same instant another, boy's, voice cried out a spell.

"_Obliviate!_"

"_Stupefy!_"

Lockhart fell forwards, stunned, but a moment too late; the spell had been cast. However, Ron's wand had been broken, shattered by the Willow at the start of the school year. The memory charm Lockhart attempted to cast instead rebounded, with a blinding flash of light, bringing the ceiling of the Chamber down.

The dust slowly cleared.

"Ron?" Harry shouted, from one side of the stone-fall, "Ron!"

"I'm here," the student's voice sounded, "I'm fine. Lockhart's not though; he got blasted by the wand. And you'll never guess which git cursed him."

Harry frowned, peering through a small gap in the rocks, just catching a glimpse of Ron. The Boy Who Lived felt a little reassured by the sight of the other student; at least he'd managed to escape the rock-fall. But who was the other person who yelled the spell?

"Trust you, Potter," Draco's familiar, semi-sneering tone came through the wall of fallen stone

"Malfoy," Harry muttered, "I thought you'd been taken."

"Taken to here," the Slytherin's voice unwittingly exposed a tone of fear, "But I got out. It left a wand near m; and this thing insisted I take it to you."

A moment later, the dusty black Sorting Hat was stuffed through a gap in the wall.

Frowning, but relieved, Rory was the one to take the Hat, holding it for a few moments.

Amy flashed through his mind.

She'd been petrified by the Basilisk; the Basilisk residing here, in this Chamber, with a fated death coming towards it. And because of that, Rory allowed Harry to converse with Ron and the reluctant Draco, muttering for a minute or so, planning out what to do if Harry didn't return in an hour. But Rory wasn't listening; he walked further into the Chamber of Secrets, in a kind of daze.

About a minute later, Harry Potter had rushed to his side, hissing parseltongue to open a magical, metal, serpentine door. Emerald eyes glinted, and the snake drew away.

Behind it was the Chamber of Secrets.

A grand, flat surface, as impressive as any of Hogwarts despite its immense age. Snakeheads reared from the sides, emerald eyes glaring, glinting in torchlight.

And then a person flickered into being, just above a small black book.

Rory tensed; as the real Diary had been destroyed, the Doctor's holographic book had instead been placed here, completed with clips of the Harry Potter movie playing. The actor to play the young Riddle stood there, glaring.

"Una memoria-" the recording began. The Doctor had used the Spanish recording of movie. Voldemort from Spain. Something was wrong.

Apparently TARDIS translators were disrupted in the Chamber. Maybe it was an effect of the dark magic, meaning the Spanish and English movies were no longer indistinguishable.

Whatever the case, the video was soon cut off as a huge, snarling serpent, the Basilisk, slithered over it. Reacting quickly, Harry and Rory looked away, covering their eyes.

Rory sighed. There was nothing he could do; the sudden courage which had possessed him to walk here, had all but evaporated. The tale made no mention of him: Harry was the one to face and defeat the Basilisk.

Mr Pond threw the Sorting Hat over to Harry; the black haired boy frowned, but took in nonetheless, running to the side of the Chamber. Rory mirrored the action; going to the opposite side, and hiding behind a snakehead. He risked a glance; the leathery serpent moved towards Harry.

Rory closed his eyes, bringing his knees up to his chest and sitting by the snakehead. Now to wait; he'd accompanied Harry down here, which was all he'd been expected to do. When Harry had won-

A scream pierced the Chamber.

The time traveller opened his eyes, looking across the Chamber suddenly; the snake had darted forwards, bitten down. Envenomed fangs had pierced Harry's arm.

Time seemed to stop.

The Doctor had described this bit, now he thought of it; there was a cure for Basilisk venom. Just one. Phoenix tears; and Fawkes was supposed be here. The phoenix was meant to take the Hat here, not Draco.

Harry moaned again, from the venom coursing through his system. The Basilisk reared up above him, hissing, almost smug.

With gritted teeth, Harry grabbed the Sorting Hat, waving it at the Basilisk, as if to ward it off. And-

In a flash of flame, Fawkes rocketed out from the dusty Hat, cawing, fiery wings outstretched, and talons wide.

The phoenix had been summoned, as it should have been, by Harry's need. Dumbledore's promise had truly been fulfilled; help would always be available at Hogwarts for those who needed it. And even when worlds away, Dumbledore would be able to help.

The Basilisk roared, screeched, reptilian head batting out against the grand firebird, yet screeching when its moist flesh touched the scalding body of Fawkes. The phoenix fought back; talons digging into the deadly eyes of the king serpent.

Rory stared, amazed by the spectacular creature's arrival. It had soared, out from the Hat: magic. But Harry was still unable to see the splendour; his vision was growing foggy, sensations indistinct.

Somehow, Fawkes found time to cease circling the Basilisk; leaving the serpent momentarily reeling.

The firebird slowed, and descended, hooking its claws around Harry Potter's punctured arm. Burnt orange feathers peered down at the gruesome wound; unaffected by the hissing serpent above it.

One solitary tear fell from the round, lonely eye of the phoenix.

Slowly, gently, Harry's eyes gradually focused once again. "Thanks Fawkes," he murmured weakly, eliciting a cheerful caw from the bird.

A sensation of unutterable relief passed through him; restoration. The cure of a phoenix tear. The only way to survive Basilisk venom.

At a speed at odds with the urgency of his surroundings, Harry looked up, realizing a moment too late the danger, yet surviving. Fawkes had blinded the Basilisk; its eyes were no threat now.

"Now would be the time for the movie to gloat," Rory muttered to himself, watching intently as the serpent hissed, trying blindly to locate Harry.

"Tom Riddle!" Rory shouted suddenly, voice echoing across the chamber; "It's Voldemort!"

Harry frowned, looking up at him as he ran around the back of the Basilisk. The serpent began to move towards Rory's voice.

"You're sure?" Harry cried back. The great serpent paused in indecision, hearing tow targets.

"Yes," Rory shouted, irritated. Apparently the movie was meant to explain it. But no, it had to be Spanish, and it had to be crushed by the Basilisk.

Harry Potter's brow furrowed: Voldemort… He whispered the words to himself, an anger growing within him. Yet it was more than just anger; it wasn't blind fury, it wasn't indignation, it was something, somehow, more noble.

The Sorting Hat sagged in his hand.

Surprised, Harry looked at the dirty black headwear in his hand. For a moment, he didn't care about the oncoming Basilisk; he just cared about the Hat. The thing _within_ the Hat. The shining silver, like a mirror, with a ruby set at the end.

Harry gripped the tip, the hilt, with one hand; making sure he was securely holding the silver item. Then, with a flourish, he pulled it out from the Hat.

Rory grinned at the Arthurian moment, watching Harry Potter wield the Sword of Gryffindor at the lightning-fast serpent.

A split-second of tension.

The Basilisk roared across the floor of the Chamber, hissing, spitting, snarling, fangs bared. Its target was the seemingly serene Boy Who Lived: who just stood, transfixed by the ancient blade, holding it in one hand, absent-minded dropping the Sorting Hat.

The distance between them shrunk to one metre.

Zero metres.

The Basilisk made a move, as if to bite down, an almost vampire-like gesture, hissing. Harry looked up, as if waking up, raising the sword.

He thrust the perfect silver up, into the maw of the serpent. A screech of agony came from the creature; it thrashes, leathery tail lashing out, whipping at Harry, knocking the Hat flying across the Chamber, trying to again pierce Harry's skin with its envenomed teeth. To no avail.

Blood dripped from the wound, settling over the ruby; an eerie appearance. And then, even that was silent. Still.

Sword of Gryffindor firmly embedded through it's head and brain, the Basilisk of Salazar Slytherin lay there, lifeless in the Chamber of Secrets.

Several, thankfully quiet, seconds passed. Rory watched, feeling somewhere between useless, and privileged to watch the confrontation.

Fawkes came down from circling the Chamber, perching lightly on the Basilisk's still face. He looked around, eyes somehow mournful. Tearful.

"Fang," Rory at last found his voice. Harry turned to him; "Get a Basilisk fang, stab the diary. Stop Riddle- Voldemort coming back with it."

Mildly mystified, but trusting, Harry obeyed; simultaneously wrenching the Sword away from the snake. While carrying the blade, he took a fang from the great serpent, taking it to the abandoned diary. Then, with a cry of exertion, he forced the envenomed tooth into the book. It bled ink.

Taken straight from the movie, they were treated to the animation of the young Tom Riddle, shouting, crying out as he was worn away by the cuts in the Diary. Until there was nothing; he was worn away by the light and venom.

Panting softly, Rory crossed the Chamber, moving around the serpent, as he went to the line of snakeheads, the opposite side of the grand hollow.

"What're you doing?" Harry was breathing heavily as he spoke

"Looking for the Hat," Rory replied; "Don't worry. You go back; use Fawkes. He can help you get Ron, Lockhart and Draco out of here. I'll follow later."

Rory didn't turn; looking into the shallow, murky water around the stone he stood upon.

Harry left after several minutes; Fawkes chirped, and followed. Rory didn't. He was partially absorbed by staring into the water, and partly, he felt out-of-focus, as much as anything.

He'd done nothing. Amy was paralyzed in the castle far above, and he'd done nothing to help her. Guilt reigned in his heart.

But not only that; there was a hint in the corner of his mind. A hint that he might prove able to do something. For, didn't the Doctor warn him of aliens? And Draco said he'd been taken here… It stood to reason one of the aliens might be residing in the Chamber.

Splash.

Rory took a tentative step into the water in front of him; wincing at the noise piercing the silence. Still, it helped him continue; helped him look, and focus a little more. And there, he could see it; the tip of the Sorting Hat, emerging from the murky water.

He bent his knees, reaching down to pick it up.

"I say, this is a conundrum," the Hat's voice murmured. Rory frowned at it, as he turned towards the main part of the Chamber, holding the dripping headwear.

"I don't know what you mean," Rory rested on a huge, bronze snakehead.

"Do you wish to be Sorted?" the Hat spoke

"Huh? No," Rory shook his head

"Oh, well then," the Hat shook off a little water, "It is not often strange hands pick me up. Hm. Especially not Muggle hands."

"Long story," Rory muttered, about to move.

Blue light filled the Chamber.

Caught off guard, the man moved behind the snakehead, hiding; the light was coming from the Basilisk's mouth. And a noise accompanied it; a noise like some huge zip, gradually pulling undone.

Rory tried to control his breathing, as he held the Sorting Hat close. Still, blue light rebounded off the wall in front of him. Past the snakehead. And the buzzing reached a crescendo-

And stopped.

Tentative, Rory peered around the snakehead. A shadow greeted him; a figure, cloaked in the darkness of the cavern, just by the maw of the Basilisk. As if having clambered out; it wasn't human. Too tall, barely any neck, and long gangly arms, finished the predatory claws. To finish all that off, there were strings, almost, of flesh, tying it to the Basilisk. Not natural; they didn't appear it at all. More artificial; added, to try and help it control the Basilisk.

Mermaids, though Rory didn't know it. As the Doctor said in the Forest, due to the lack of viable hosts, the Slitheen had used their advanced biological technology on themselves, to aid mergence with the creatures.

The Slitheen stepped further away from the Basilisk.

An emotion, as blazing as Fawkes' flame, burned through Rory.

This was the creature who petrified Amy. It controlled the Basilisk. And, by conscious choice, not a need at all, just choice, it had gone after Amy. The crime of extinguishing the Sun paled in comparison, in his mind.

Two thousand years had been spent guarding his wife from any and all threats. Two thousand years. Rory would not stop now; not ever.

For Amy.

The words blazed in his mind; and a weight formed in his palm.

The dry, dusty voice of the Sorting Hat whispered in his mind: "Whether you wanted to be or not, you have been Sorted. What other possibility was there?"

"Stop!" Rory shouted, voice carrying strongly through the Chamber of Secrets.

With that, he stepped out from behind the snakehead, facing the Slitheen, as the alien turned. An expression, more of shock then fear, passed over the creature's face.

Rory Pond wielded the Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

It felt somehow right to hold a weapon, like this sword, again. He'd spent a long time as a Roman, even if just a plastic one. Traits never rubbed off completely, especially not when practised for two thousand years. He held a sword in his hand for the time between his death and being reunited with Amy. Following that, he again held a sword for two thousand years, in her protection.

He was used to the weapon. He could wield it; and as if to prove the point, he span the Sword in the gesture Amy affectionately called his 'sword-y thing'.

Amy…

Righteous indignation, a blaze demanding justice, soon faded, to be replaced with guilt. Would she want this?

No. That was why she travelled with the Doctor; she'd demonstrated time and again how much she agreed with his pacifist stances. So maybe the sword wasn't the right choice.

Or at least, no inherently the right choice. Still, there was more than one way to use it.

Rory Pond took another step towards the Slitheen. The alien was moving towards the stone face of Salazar Slytherin in the wall; Rory stood the opposite side of the Chamber, the opposite side of the serpent.

Fawkes and his healing tears had perched on the Basilisk's face earlier. While tears would not restore it to life, they would heal some of the damage. Especially one thing; judging by the wisdom of the phoenix.

The only problem was, there was no way to find out, except to try it. He couldn't look down to see.

Slowly exhaling, Rory pressed the Sword to the ground, tip chipping the floor. The reflective, perfect silver rested by the head of the king serpent, facing the Slitheen.

The Slitheen glared across the Chamber, at the human who dared challenge her. She began to wail, to shout, to charge, raising her claws. And then she saw the blade.

Yellow light was reflected in the Sword.

Fawkes the phoenix had let healing tears fall onto the eyes of the Basilisk. They still retained their potential from that inherent magic, even if not permanently. But it was enough; the Slitheen had looked into the mirror-like silver of Gryffindor's Sword. She had seen the eyes of the Basilisk reflected.

Poetic justice. Petrified; just like Amy.

O

Space.

Half of the Slitheen crafted drifted for the Sun. The other half was lost; unseen.

The Doctor and Dumbledore sat together, alone, abandoned by the wall. Fawkes had left them quite some time ago, sucked into a flash of light. They didn't speak to ask or say why. Conserving air: they did not know how much was left.

"Did I ever tell you how this ended?" the Doctor eventually murmured, "Not all this stuff, the Seventh book?"

"Is it wise to tell me?" Dumbledore frowned, looking sideways at the Time Lord

"Oh, why not?" the Doctor shrugged, "This one we might not be getting out of. And I've broken the Laws of Time before."

"If it is your wish," Dumbledore replied, "Though I already know much. I read the books."

A few seconds of silence. The craft drifted closer to the Sun; Dumbledore's shield charm soon wouldn't be enough to protect them.

"You might want to know some of this," the Doctor shrugged, "Harry, Ron and Hermione go after Voldemort by themselves. It doesn't start off well, nothing ever does. Ron leaves them. Which is a bit whiny, but makes up for things; it used to be Hermione, all grotty like that. But that's not the point, even if it should be. Ron left them at one point. Disapparated straight away."

The Time Lord exhaled.

"He didn't come back for a while," he continued, "And you wouldn't believe how he got back. You gave him this thing," the Doctor tossed the Deluminator from one hand to the other, "And he took a lot of light with it. Then, it let him disapparate again; it took him straight to-"

The Doctor paused.

"Al!" he grinned

"Albus," Dumbledore laughed a little, "Yes?"

"The Deluminator!" he threw the little, powerful light-giver up in the air; "It took him to where he wanted to go! Couldn't it do the same for us?"

"I believe so," Dumbledore spoke slowly, "But much light would be needed. And I do not think we should risk taking sunlight."

"No trouble," the Doctor grinned again, tossing the Deluminator in the air, withdrawing the transfigured sonic screwdriver, and catching the Deluminator in the same hand. "Do you mind turning this back?"

Smiling, Dumbledore tapped the 'wand' with his own; light washed over it, and soon it was the familiar, scientific instrument.

"I'll want this back," the Doctor muttered dryly, flicking the sonic on. Just beside it, he activated the Deluminator; drawing a steady stream of light from the implement, until the sonic had been put out.

"Ready?" the Doctor linked arms with the headmaster, grinning.

With a flick of the Deluminator, they disapparated.

O

Rory sat beside his redheaded wife in the Hospital Wing. She should be waking up soon.

Soon.

He didn't know he was crying, until the tears had visibly spread through the sheets. By then, he didn't really care. All that mattered was Amy. If, when she awoke.

"Heya Rory," the redhead croaked. Her husband looked at her, speechless. "You mind, you're getting my leg all wet," she made a faint attempt at humour.

Wordless, Rory leant forwards, lips meeting. Amy raised a hand, brushing the back of his head weakly, as if to prolong the kiss.

"I ought to try it more often," Amy quipped once Rory had withdrawn, "If that's what I get."

In response, Rory kissed her once more.

O

Lucius Malfoy paced down the Hogwarts corridor, irate, heading as far away from Dumbledore's Office and the doctor's counterfeit Diary as he could.

"I was wrong, you know," the Time Lord's voice sounded from a side corridor. He sprang into step alongside Lucius, and the struggling house-elf Dobby to his side.

"You kept the fez," Lucius spoke, lips pulled back tightly

"Of course," the Doctor tapped the red hat, "But that's not what matters. Actually it is, fezzes always matter, but not right now."

"What is it?" Lucius murmured, irritated

"You're better than the green creatures," the Doctor spoke with all seriousness. "So much better. You listened to reason; you didn't continue blindly."

"And?" Lucius glared at the Time Lord, though his expression softened somewhat.

"Just…remember that," the Doctor took off the fez, giving it to Draco's father. "And, try it again. Listen to reason. Remember what it felt like, to be their prisoner."

With that, the Doctor walked away. Lucius looked after him, before looking back down at the hat in his hand.

With a scowl, Lucius dropped the fez to his side, in a specifically aimed gesture.

Dobby looked up, from beneath the unorthodox hat.

"Go," Lucius said the one word, not kindly, but far from the anger he normally reserved for the elf.

Silent, wide-eyed, the freed Dobby vanished with a pop, wearing the fez, unexpectedly grateful to his old master.

From a distance, bathed in the sunlight, the Doctor watched and smiled.


End file.
